sked the youth in a similar whisper.

"He's an opium-smoker."

"Is he?" said Stumps with a vacant stare. "What's that?"

Upon this text the seedy man delivered a discourse on the pleasures of
opium-smoking, which quite roused the interest and curiosity of his
hearer.

"But is it so very nice to smoke opium?" he asked, after listening for
some time.

"Nice, my dear? I should think it is--very nice, but very wrong--oh!
very wrong. Perhaps we ought not even to speak about it."

"Nonsense!" said the now half-tipsy lad with an air of determination.
"I should like to try it. Come, you know where I could have a pipe.
Let's go."

"Not for worlds," said the man with a look of remonstrance.

"Oh, yes you will," returned Stumps, rising.

"Well, you are a wilful man, and if you will I suppose you must," said
the Jew.

He rose with apparent reluctance, paid the reckoning, and led his
miserable victim into one of the numerous dens of iniquity which exist
in the lowest parts of that city. There he furnished the lad with a
pipe of opium, and, while he was in the state of semi-stupor resulting
therefrom, removed his bag of treasure, which he found, to his delight,
contained a far richer prize than he had anticipated, despite the
quantity of trash with which it was partly filled.

Having secured this, he waited until Stumps had partially recovered, and
then led him into one of the most crowded thoroughfares.

"Now, my boy," he said affectionately, "I think you are much better.
You can walk alone."

"I should think I could," he replied, indignantly shaking off the man's
grasp. "Wh-what d'ee take me for?"

He drew his hand across his eyes, as if to clear away the cloud that
still oppressed him, and stared sternly before him, then he stared, less
sternly, on either side, then he wheeled round and stared anxiously
behind him. Then clapping his left hand quickly to his side, he became
conscious that his bag was gone, and that his late friend had taken an
abrupt departure without bidding him farewell.

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

STUMPS IN DESPAIR--AND BOMBAY IN RAPTURES.

When Mr John Shanks realised the full extent of his loss, his first
impulse was to seize hold of the nearest passer-by and strangle him; his
next, to dash down a narrow street close beside him in pursuit of some
one; his next, to howl "stop thief!" and "murder!" and his next, to
stare into a shop window in blank dismay, and meditate.

Of these v