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bear none of that!' 'Tally-ho Thompson,'
I said, 'I'm willing to behave as a man to
you, if you are willing to behave as a man to
me. Give me your word that you'll come
peaceably along, and I don't want to handcuff
you.' 'I will,' says Thompson, 'but I'll have
a glass of brandy first.' 'I don't care if I've
another,' said I. 'We'll have two more,
Missis,' said the friends, 'and con-found you,
Constable, you'll give your man a drop, won't
you?' I was agreeable to that, so we had it
all round, and then my man and I took
Tally-ho Thompson safe to the railroad, and I
carried him to London that night. He was
afterwards acquitted, on account of a defect
in the evidence; and I understand he always
praises me up to the skies, and says I'm one
of the best of men."

This story coming to a termination amidst
general applause, Inspector Wield, after a little
grave smoking, fixes his eye on his host, and
thus delivers himself:

"It wasn't a bad plant that of mine, on
Fikey, the man accused of forging the Sou'
Western Railway debenturesit was only
t'other daybecause the reason why? I'll
tell you.

"I had information that Fikey and his
brother kept a factory over yonder there,"
indicating any region on the Surrey side of
the river, "where he bought second-hand
carriages; so after I'd tried in vain to get hold
of him by other means, I wrote him a letter
in an assumed name, saying that I'd got a
horse and shay to dispose of, and would drive
down next day, that he might view the lot,
and make an offervery reasonable it was, I
saida reg'lar bargain. Straw and me then
went off to a friend of mine that's in the
livery and job business, and hired a turn-out
for the day, a precious smart turn-out, it was
quite a slap-up thing! Down we drove,
accordingly, with a friend (who's not in the
Force himself); and leaving my friend in the
shay near a public-house, to take care of the
horse, we went to the factory, which was some
little way off. In the factory, there was a
number of strong fellows at work, and after
reckoning 'em up, it was clear to me that it
wouldn't do to try it on there. They were
too many for us. We must get our man out
of doors. 'Mr. Fikey at home?' 'No, he
ain't.' 'Expected home soon?' 'Why, no,
not soon.' 'Ah! is his brother here?'  '/'m
his brother.' 'Oh! well, this is an ill-
conwenience, this is. I wrote him a letter yesterday,
saying I'd got a little turn-out to dispose
of, and I've took the trouble to bring the
turn-out down, a' purpose, and now he ain't
in the way.' 'No, he an't in the way. You
couldn't make it convenient to call again, could
you?' 'Why, no, I couldn't. I want to sell;
that's the fact; and I can't put it off. Could
you find him anywheres?' At first he said
No, he couldn't, and then he wasn't sure
about it, and then he'd go and try. So, at
last he went up-stairs, where there was a sort
of loft, and presently down comes my man
himself, in his shirt sleeves.

"'Well,' he says, 'this seems to be rayther
a pressing matter of yours.' 'Yes,' I says, 'it
is rayther a pressing matter, and you'll find it
a bargaindirt-cheap.' 'I ain't in partickler
want of a bargain just now,' he says, 'but
where is it?'  'Why,' I says, 'the turn-out's
just outside. Come and look at it.' He
hasn't any suspicions, and away we go. And
the first thing that happens is, that the
horse runs away with my friend (who knows
no more of driving than a child) when he
takes a little trot along the road to show
his paces. You never saw such a game in
your life!

"When the bolt is over, and the turn-out has
come to a stand-still again, Fikey walks round
and round it, as grave as a judgeme too.
'There, Sir!' I says. 'There's a neat thing!'
'It an't a bad style of thing,' he says. 'I
believe you,' says I. 'And there's a horse!'
for I saw him looking at it. 'Rising eight!'
I says, rubbing his fore-legs. (Bless you,
there an't a man in the world knows less of
horses than I do, but I'd heard my friend at
the Livery Stables say he was eight year old,
so I says, as knowing as possible, 'Rising
Eight.') 'Rising eight, is he?' says he.
'Rising eight,' says I. 'Well,' he says, 'what
do you want for it?' 'Why, the first and last
figure for the whole concern is five-and-twenty
pound!' 'That's very cheap!' he says, looking
at me. 'An't it?' I says. 'I told you it
was a bargain! Now, without any higgling
and haggling about it, what I want is to sell,
and that's my price. Further, I'll make it
easy to you, and take half the money down,
and you can do a bit of stiff* for the balance.'
'Well,' he says again, 'that's very cheap.'
'I believe you,' says I; 'get in and try it, and
you'll buy it. Come! take a trial!'

* Give a bill.

"Ecod, he gets in, and we get in, and we
drive along the road, to show him to one of
the railway clerks that was hid in the public-
house window to identify him. But the clerk
was bothered, and didn't know whether it
was him, or wasn'tbecause the reason why?
I'll tell you,—on account of his having shaved
his whiskers. 'It's a clever little horse,' he
says, 'and trots well; and the shay runs
light.' 'Not a doubt about it,' I says. 'And
now, Mr. Fikey, I may as well make it all
right, without wasting any more of your time.
The fact, is, I'm Inspector Wield, and you're
my prisoner.' 'You don't mean that?' he
says. 'I do, indeed.' 'Then burn my body,'
says Fikey, 'if this ain't too bad!'

"Perhaps you never saw a man so knocked
over with surprise. 'I hope you'll let me
have my coat?' he says. 'By all means.'
'Well, then, let's drive to the factory.'
'Why, not exactly that, I think,' said I;
'I've been there, once before, to-day.
Suppose we send for it.' He saw it was no go