"A wery little file."
"How did you smuggle it in?"
"Just in a little plug o' smoke, Bobbs, w'ich a friend sent me for my 'ealth, w'ich is poor, as my bloomin' associates around me 'ere frequently observe. Nobody'd look for a little rat's tooth laid crossways in a little plug o' smoke, with the 'andle alongside of it, would they, Bobbs?"
"Are you sawing the bars?"
"Ham I? It's all done."
"You've sawed them through?"
"And poor little hinnocent Bobbs never 'eard me."
Dobbs went off in a peal of laughter.
"But how do you hide the cuts in the bars when any one comes?"
"Wot'll stop a leak in a gas-pipe? Soap. Wot'll 'ide a slice in a sawed bar? Gum."