Penny Blood Serial Fiction — page 351: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

334 THE COURT OF LONDON affair; and where should we be? Why, in the Stone Jug before we could look around us.”’ “ That’s true enough,’ observed Carrotty Poll, struck by the soundness of her father’s reasoning. “And then, again,’’ continued the Beggarman, ‘“ suppos- ing that Ramsey should recover altogether, wouldn’t he be sure to tell the Magsman how we served him out? And there isn’t a more vindictive fellow in all the world than Joe Warren. If he went to the gallows himself along with us, he’d take us there out of pure revenge. And even if he didn’t, he’d cut us for ever, and we can’t very well do with- out him. Then there’s another point to be considered,” added the herculean rufhian, thus rapidly surveying every feature of the emergency in which he and his daughter were placed. ‘‘ This Tim Meagles and Lady Lade will go and see Zamsey to-morrow, and they will perhaps fish out of him all that has happened; and though they wouldn’t very well dare to tell a magistrate, seeing that they have been mixed up with us in this business of trying to get old Lightfoot’s papers, still they would be sure to tell the Magsman, — and there we are floored again.” ‘What do you propose to do, then? ’’ demanded Poll, crossing her thin freckled arms across her scraggy breast. ‘“T propose to keep Meagles and her ladyship here until to-morrow night,’’ answered the Big Beggarman; “ and in the meantime — ”’ ‘“In the meantime the Magsman may come and want his room,” interrupted Poll, sharply. ‘“T can stall him off for a day or two, my dear,” observed her father. ‘‘ Won’t it be easy to tell him that Grumley and his men have been seen lurking about the neighbour- hood? ” 3 “Well, go on. What next?’ demanded the red-haired young woman. “You must tog yourself off in your best clothes without a moment’s delay,’ said the Beggarman; “‘ and you must cross the river as soon as possible. Ramsey is lying at the Mariners’ Arms, and you ain’t known there. You’ll pretend to be his sister, or wife, or cousin, or anything you like; and you'll say that, having missed your unfortunate husband or relative, as the case may be, you made inquiries, and was horror-struck to hear that a genelman answering his de- ¢ CORNIE COOKS (E(0) m