square before the Church of St.
Augustine, fare forth into the darker side passages, and move in the
direction of the street of the Golden Fleece.

They were, of course, Cleek and the boy Dollops.

"Lumme, Gov'nor," whispered he, as they turned at last into the utter
darkness and desertion of the narrow Rue Toison d'Or, "if this is wot
yer calls Gay Paree--this precious black slit between two rows of
houses--I'll take a slice of the Old Kent Road with thanks. Not even so
much as a winkle-stall in sight, and me that empty my shirt-bosom's
a-chafing my blessed shoulder-blades!"

"You'll see plenty of life before the game's over, I warrant you,
Dollops. Now then, my lad, here's a safe spot. Sit down on the hat-box
and wait. That's No. 7, that empty house with the open door, just across
the way. Keep your eye on it. I don't know how long I'll be, but if
anybody comes out before I do, mind you don't let him get away."

"No fear!" said Dollops sententiously. "I'll be after him as if he was a
ham sandwich, sir. Look out for my patent 'Tickle Tootsies' when you
come out, Gov'nor. I'll sneak over and put 'em round the door as soon as
you've gone in." For Dollops, who was of an inventive turn of mind, had
an especial "man-trap" of his own, which consisted of heavy brown paper,
cut into squares, and thickly smeared over with a viscid varnish-like
substance that would adhere to the feet of anybody incautiously stepping
upon it, and so interfere with flight that it was an absolute necessity
to stop and tear the papers away before running with any sort of ease
and swiftness was possible. This was the "invention" to which Cleek had
alluded. Dollops, who was rather proud of the achievement, carried with
him a full supply of ready-cut papers and a big collapsible tube of the
viscid, ropy, varnish-like glue.

Meantime, Cleek, having left the boy sitting on the hat-box in the
darkness, crossed the narrow street to the open doorway of No. 7, and,
without hesitation, stepped in. The place was as black as a pocket, and
had that peculiar smell which belongs to houses that have long stood
vacant. The house, nevertheless, was a respectable one, and, like all
the others, fronted on another street--this dark Toison d'Or being
merely a back passage used principally by the tradespeople for the
delivery of supplies. Feeling his way to the first of the three flights
of stairs which led upward into the stillness and gloom above, Cleek
mounted ste