me at my own house the day after to-morrow, at eight in the morning?”

“I will,” replied the boy, with decision; “but I say, all fair an’ above-board? No school-boardin’ nor nuffin’ o’ that sort—hey? honour bright?”

“Honour bright!” I replied, holding out my hand, which he grasped and shook quite heartily.

We had both taken two or three steps in opposite directions, when, as if under the same impulse, we looked back at each other, and in so doing became aware of the fact that Dumps stood between us on the pavement in a state of extreme indecision or mental confusion.

“Hallo! I say! we’ve bin an’ forgot Punch!” exclaimed the boy.

“Dumps,” said I, “come along!”

“Punch,” said he, “come here, good dog!”

My doggie looked first at one, then at the other. The two indicators in front rose and fell, while the one behind wagged and drooped in a state of obvious uncertainty.

“Won’t you sell ’im back?” said Slidder, returning. “I’ll work it out in messages or anythink else.”

“But what of the bobbies?” I asked.

“Ah! true, I forgot the bobbies. I’d on’y be able to keep ’im for a week, p’r’aps not so long, afore they’d nab him.—Go, Punch, go, you don’t know ven you’re vell off.”

The tone in which this was uttered settled the point, and turned the wavering balance of the creature’s affections in my favour. With all the indicators extremely pendulous, and its hairy coat hanging in a species of limp humility, my doggie followed me home; but I observed that, as we went along, he ever and anon turned a wistful glance in the direction in which the ragged waif had disappeared.