J. COLE. 61

_ “Well, mum,” said the man, “it looks

queer, and very like it. He slept down-stairs
close to the very door where they got in;
he never gives no alarm, he must have been
expecting something, or else why was he
dressed? And how did his shoe come in the
garden? And what’s more to the point, if
so be as he’s innercent, where is he? These
young rascals is that artful, you'd be sur-
prised to know the dodges they’re up to.”

“But,” I interrupted, “it is impossible, it
ig cruel to suspect him. He is gone, true
enough, but I’m sure he will come back. Per-
haps he ran after the men to try and catch
them, and dropped his shoe then.”

“That's not likely, mum,” said he, with a
pitying smile at my ignorance of circumstan-
tial evidence; “he’d have called out to stop
"em, and it ’aint likely they’d have let him
get up their ladder, afore chucking of it into
the next garden, if so be as he was a-chasing
of ’em to get’em took. No, mar’m; I’m very
sorry, particular as you seem so kindly dis-
posed; but, in my humble opinion, he’s a art-
ful young dodger, and this ’ere job has been