replied Toto. "Listen a bit, and you shall
have the whole bag of tricks. Suppose I saw Polyte steal a couple of
pairs of boots from a trotter-case seller's stall----"

Polyte interrupted the narrator, protesting so strongly that he would
not commit such an act, that Tantaine perceived at once that some such
trifling act of larceny weighed heavily on his conscience.

"You needn't kick up such a row," returned Toto. "I am only just putting
it as a thing that might happen. We will say you had done the trick, and
that I had twigged you. Do you know what I should go? Well, I would hunt
up Polyte, and say quietly, 'Halves, old man, or I will split.'"

"And I should give you a crack in the jaw," returned Polyte angrily.

Forgetting his fine dress, Toto playfully put his thumb to his nose and
extended his fingers.

"You would not be such an ass," said he. "You would say to yourself, 'If
I punch this chap, he will kick up no end of a row, and I shall be taken
up, and perhaps sent to the mill.' No; you would be beastly civil, and
would end by doing just as I wished."

"And this is what you call your business, is it?"

"Isn't it a good one--the mugs stand the racket, and the downy cards
profit by it?"

"But there is no novelty in this; it is only blackmail after all."

"I never said it wasn't; but it is blackmailing perfected into a
system."

As Toto made this reply he hammered on the table, calling for more
drink.

"But," remarked Polyte, with an air of disappointment, "you don't get
chances every day, and the business is often a precious poor one. You
can't always be seeing chaps prigging boots."

"Pooh! pooh!" answered Toto, "if you want to make money in this
business, you must keep your eyes about you. Our customers don't come
to you, but there is nothing to prevent you going to them. You can hunt
until you find them."

"And where are you to hunt, if you please?"

"Ah, that's tellings."

A long silence ensued, during which Tantaine was half tempted to come
forward. By doing so he would assuredly nip all explanations in the bud;
but, on the other hand, he wanted to hear all the young rascal had
to say. He therefore only moved a little nearer, and listened more
intently.

Forgetting his curls, Toto was abstractedly passing his fingers through
his hair, and reflecting with all the wisdom of a muddled brain.
Finally, he came to the conclusion that he might speak, and, leaning
forward, he whispered,--

"You