e a provincial one," replied Billy,
jingling the half-crown against the silver in his pocket.

"What brings you so far out of your beat, Walleye?" inquired Jones.

"Oh, I'm on circuit just now, makin' a tower of the provinces. I tried
a case just before you came up, an' made three shillins out of it,
besides no end o' promises--which, unfort'nately, I can't awail myself
of--from a sweet young lady, with such a pleasant face, that I wished I
could adopt her for a darter. But that's an expensive luxury, you see;
can't afford it yet."

"Well, youngster," said Jones, assuming a more grave yet off-hand air,
"if you choose to trust me, I'll put you in the way of makin' some money
without much trouble. It only requires a little false swearing, which I
daresay you are used to."

"No, I ain't," retorted the urchin indignantly; "I never tells a lie
'xcept w'en I can't help it. _Then_, of course, a feller _must_ do it!"

"Just so, Walleye, them's my sentiments. Have you got a father?"

"No, nor yet a mother," replied Billy. "As far as I'm aweer of, I wos
diskivered on the steps of a city work'us, an' my first impressions in
this life wos the knuckles of the old woman as banged me up. The
governor used to talk a lot o' balderdash about our bein' brought up;
but I knows better. I wos banged up; banged up in the mornins, banged
to meals, and banged to bed; banged through thick and thin, for
everything an' for nothin', until I banged myself out o' the door one
fine mornin', which I banged arter me, an' 'ave bin bangin' about, a
gen'lem'n at large, ever since."

"Ha! got no friends and nothin' to do?" said Morley Jones.

"Jis so."

"Well, if you have a mind to take service with me, come along an' have a
pot o' beer."

The man turned on his heel and walked off to a neighbouring
public-house, leaving the small boy to follow or not as he pleased, and
apparently quite indifferent as to what his decision might be.

Billy Towler--_alias_ Walleye--looked after him with an air of
uncertainty. He did not like the look of the man, and was about to
decide against him, when the jingle of the half-crown in his pocket
turned the scale in his favour. Running after him, he quietly said,
"I'm your man," and then began to whistle, at the same time making an
abortive effort to keep step with his long-limbed employer, who said
nothing in reply, but, entering a public-house, ordered two pots of
beer. These, when produced, he and his