Taking courage, Dicky toddled in, book in hand, and approached Moore, who gazed wonderingly down at him.
"Well, my lad, what do you want?"
"Please, sir," piped Dicky, "I wants help wid me lessons," and he held up his book. Bessie stuffed her handkerchief into her mouth to smother her laughter, while a look of understanding came into Moore's eyes.
"Oh, you want help, do you?" said the latter.
"Yis, sir, wid me aris'metic," announced Dicky, laboring earnestly to bring forth the big word and catching some of the edges with his teeth in spite of the exertion. "It's a sum, sir."
"A sum indeed?" echoed Moore.
"Yis, sir, and the answer is one shillin', sir."
Moore looked over at Bessie, who almost choked and had to seek relief in coughing. Then he regarded the recently arrived blackmailer with a glance that he vainly endeavored to make severe, but Dicky perceived the twist of mirth at the sides of his victim's mouth, and took heart accordingly.
"A shilling, my young Jack Sheppard?" said Moore, feeling in his pocket. "I 'll give you a six-pence."
"Patsy said it was a shillin'," insisted Dicky, stamping his feet by way of emphasis.