“'Good evening, sir,' she ses, jumping up and giving me a pretty little frightened look. 'I'm so sorry that my brother has been deceiving you. He's a bad, wicked, ungrateful boy. The idea of telling you that Mr. Watson was 'is father! Have you been there? I do 'ope you're not tired.'
“'Where is he?' I ses.
“'He's gorn,' she ses, shaking her 'ead. 'I begged and prayed of 'im to stop, but 'e wouldn't. He said 'e thought you might be offended with 'im. “Give my love to old Roley-Poley, and tell him I don't trust 'im,” he ses.'
“She stood there looking so scared that I didn't know wot to say. By and by she took out 'er little pocket-'ankercher and began to cry—
“'Oh, get 'im back,' she ses. 'Don't let it be said I follered 'im 'ere all the way for nothing. Have another try. For my sake!'
“''Ow can I get 'im back when I don't know where he's gorn?' I ses.
“'He-he's gorn to 'is godfather,' she ses, dabbing her eyes. 'I promised 'im not to tell anybody; but I don't know wot to do for the best.'
“'Well, p'r'aps his godfather will 'old on to 'im,' I ses.
“'He won't tell 'im anything about going to sea,' she ses, shaking 'er little head. 'He's just gorn to try and bo—bo-borrow some money to go away with.'
“She bust out sobbing, and it was all I could do to get the godfather's address out of 'er. When I think of the trouble I took to get it I come over quite faint. At last she told me, between 'er sobs, that 'is name was Mr. Kiddem, and that he lived at 27, Bridge Street.