his Brown."

"Is your father a religious man?"

"A what, Sir?"

"A religious man."

"I dunno, Sir."

"Does he go to church?"

"Oh, yes'r, to meetin' on Sundays."

"What meeting?"

"Methodist, Sir."

"Where?"

"At No. 13 King Street," said the boy, without a moment's hesitation.

"You young jackass," said Davis. "No. 13 King Street, and all the
numbers near it in Blackwall, are warehouses--what's the use of
trying to humbug me?"

"Who's a-tryin' to humbug you?" whimpered the boy. "I don't remember
the numbers. It's somewhere in King Street. I never go myself."

"You don't, don't you?"

"No, Sir."

"Now, see here, my boy," said Davis, sternly, "I know you. You can't
come it over me. You've got into a nice mess, you have. You've got
mixed in with a conspiracy, and the law's goin' to take hold of you
at once unless you make a clean breast of it."

"Oh Lord!" cried the boy. "Stop that. What am I a-doin' of?"

"Nonsense, you young rascal! Listen to me now, and answer me. Do you
know any thing about this Brown?"

"No, Sir. Father sent me."

"Well, then, let me tell you the police are after him. He's afraid to
come here, and sent you. Don't you go and get mixed up with him. If
you do, it'll be worse for you. This Brown is the biggest villain in
the kingdom, and any man that catches him'll make his blessed
fortune. We're on his tracks, and we're bound to follow him up. So
tell me the truth--where is he now?"

"In Liverpool, Sir."

"You lie, you young devil! But, if you don't own up, it'll be worse
for you."

"How's a poor cove like me to know?" cried the boy. "I'm the son of a
honest, man, and I don't know any thing about your police."

"You'll know a blessed sight more about it before you're two hours
older, if you go on hum-buggin' us this fashion," said Davis,
sternly.

"I ain't a-humbuggin'."

"You are--and I won't stand it. Come now. Brown is a _murderer_, do
you hear? There's a reward offered for him. He's got to be caught.
You've gone and mixed yourself up with this business, and you'll
never get out of the scrape till you make a clean breast of it.
That's all bosh about your father, you know."

"It ain't," said the boy, obstinately.

"Very well, then," said Davis, rising. "You've got to go with us.
We'll go first to Blackwall, and, by the Lord, if we can't find your
father, we'll take it out of you. You'll be put in the jug for ten
years, and you'll have to tell after all. Come alo