the five-pound note served to discharge my debts to the
Twins, and to Tucker, the pastrycook, and Weeden, the tobacconist. The
last two I paid myself; the first I sent by Doubleday, not wishing to
encounter again the familiar heroes of the "usual lot."

It was with a light heart and a sense of burden removed from my life
that I returned that evening to the lodgings, whither jack had preceded
me.

On my arrival I found him in a state of uneasiness.

"Very queer," said he, "Billy's not turned up. He was to be here at
seven, and it's now half-past; I never knew him late before."

"Very likely he's had some unexpected customers to detain him," I said.

"Not likely. Billy wouldn't be late for an appointment here if the
Prince of Wales himself came to get his boots blacked."

"What can have become of him, then?" I said.

"I wish I knew. I am afraid he's got into trouble."

We waited another half-hour, and no Billy appeared. Smith looked more
and more anxious.

"I think," said he, "we'd better go and look for him, Fred; what do you
say?"

"I'll come, certainly," said I; "but where do you expect to find him?"

"If there is no sign of him in Style Street, I expect he'll be in the
court where his mother lives."

I had a lively recollection of my last visit to that aristocratic
thoroughfare. But I did not wish to seem unwilling to accompany Jack in
his quest. Only I rather hoped we should find our man--or boy--in Style
Street.

But that we did not do. The flagstone on which he was wont to establish
his box was there, bare and unoccupied except for the scrawling letters
and sums traced out with his finger-tip. High or low, he was not to be
found in Style Street.

We went on in the growing dark towards the court.

"Do you know the house he lives at?"

"I'm not sure," said Jack.

"Do you know what name to inquire for?"

"No, only Billy," said Jack.

"Don't you think," said I, "it's rather unlikely we shall come across
him in a crowded court like that, knowing neither the name nor the house
where he lives?"

"Let us try, anyhow," said Jack.

We went on, and soon reached the well-known "slum." I must confess
honestly I would rather not have entered. Last time we had been there
one of us had been struck by smallpox, and both had had to run for our
lives, and it seemed to me--perhaps my illness had made me a coward--
that we were running an unnecessary risk now by plunging into it just
because Bil