" said Robin promptly; "an now pull up, for I must
take to my legs here."
"But I say, Robin, if we do find that gal, you won't split on me, eh?
You won't tell 'er who I am or where I is? You won't wictimise your old
friend?"
"D'you take me for a informer?" demanded Robin, with an offended look.
"Hall right," cried the Slogger, giving the signal to drive on.
Robin sped quickly away, executed his mission, and returned to the Black
Bull in a state of considerable excitement and strong hope.
Slidder was doomed to disappointment. He reached the Black Bull at two
o'clock precisely.
"Vell, my fair one," he said, addressing a waiting-maid who met him in
the passage, "it's good for sore eyes to see the likes o' you in cloudy
weather. D'you 'appen to know a young man of the name of Sl--I mean
Villum Bowls?"
"Yes I do, Mr Imp'rence," answered the girl.
"You couldn't introdooce me to him, could you, Miss Sunshine?"
"No, I couldn't, because he isn't here, and won't likely be back for two
hours."
This reply took all the humour out of Robin's tone and manner. He
resolved, however, to wait for half an hour, and went out to saunter in
front of the hotel.
Half an hour passed, then another, then another, and the boy was fain to
leave the spot in despair.
Poor Slidder's temperament was sanguine. Slight encouragement raised
his hopes very high. Failure depressed him proportionally and woefully
low, but, to do him justice, he never sorrowed long. In the present
instance, he left the Black Bull grinding his teeth. Then he took to
clanking his heels as he walked along in a way that drew forth the
comments of several street-boys, to whom, in a spirit of liberality, he
returned considerably more than he received. Then he began to mutter
between his teeth his private opinion as to faithless persons in
general, and faithless Villum, _alias_ the Slogger, in particular, whose
character he painted to himself in extremely sombre colours. After
that, a heavy thunder-shower having fallen and drenched him, he walked
recklessly and violently through every puddle in his path. This seemed
to relieve his spirit, for when he reached Hoboy Crescent he had
recovered much of his wonted equanimity.
The Slogger was not however, so faithless as his old friend imagined.
He had been at the Black Bull before two o'clock, but had been sent off
by his employer with a note to a house at a considerable distance in
such urgent haste
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