the neck with his other hand he held him in a grip of iron.

CHAPTER FOUR.

DANGERS THREATEN.

The man who had been thus captured by David was one of those wretched
forlorn creatures who seem to reach a lower depth of wretchedness and
degradation in London than in any other city in the world. Although
young and strongly made he was pale, gaunt and haggard, with a look
about the eyes and mouth which denoted the habitual drunkard. The
meanness of his attire is indescribable.

He trembled--whether from the effects of dissipation or fear we cannot
say--as his captor led him under the lamp, with a grip on the collar
that almost choked him, but when the light fell full on his haggard face
a feeling of intense pity induced the Scot to relax his hold.

"Oh, ye puir meeserable crater!" he said, but stopped abruptly, for the
man made a sudden and desperate effort to escape. He might as well have
struggled in the grasp of a gorilla!

"Na, na, my man, ye'll no twust yersel' oot o' my grup sae easy! keep
quiet noo, an' I'll no hurt 'ee. What gars ye gang aboot tryin' to
steal like that?"

"Steal!" explained the man fiercely, "what else can I do? I _must_
live! I've just come out of prison, and am flung on the world to be
kicked about like a dog and starve. Let me go, or I'll kill you!"

"Na, 'ee'll no kill me. I'm no sae easy killed as 'ee think," returned
David, again tightening the grasp of his right hand while he thrust his
left into his trousers-pocket.

At that moment the bull's-eye light of an advancing constable became
visible, and the defiant air of the thief gave place to a look of
anxious fear. It was evident that the dread of another period of prison
life was strong upon the trembling wretch. Drawing out a handful of
coppers, David thrust them quickly into the man's hand, and said--

"Hae, tak' them, an' aff ye go! an' ask the Lord to help 'ee to dae
better."

The strong hand relaxed, another moment and the man, slipping round the
corner like an unwholesome spirit, was gone.

"Can ye direck me, polisman," said the Scot to the constable, as he was
about to pass, "t' Toor Street?"

"Never heard of it," said the constable brusquely, but civilly enough.

"That's queer noo. I was telt it was hereaboots--Toor Street."

"Oh, perhaps you mean _Tower_ Street" said the constable, with a
patronising smile.

"Perhaps I div," returned the Scot, with that touch of cynicism which is
occasionally seen i