maid of all work.

But no one was on the watch to-night; and it was only when he came at
last to the pillared portico of his own residence that he found any sign
of life from one end of the street to the other. He did find it then,
however; for the boy, Dollops, was sitting huddled up on the top step
with the thick shadow of the portico making a safe screen for him.

He had made good use of the two half-crowns, for he had not only
feasted--and was feasting still: on a bag of winkles and a saveloy--but
was washed and brushed and had gone to the length of a shoe-shine and a
collar.

"Been waitin' since eleven o'clock, sir," he said, getting up and
pulling his forelock as Cleek appeared. "Didn't knock and arsk for no
one, though--not me. Twigged as it would be you, sir, on account of your
sayin' to-night. I've read summink of the ways of 'tecs. Wot ho!"

"You seem a sharp little customer, at all events," said Cleek with a
curious one-sided smile--a smile that was peculiar to him. "I somehow
fancy that I've made a good investment, Dollops. Filled up, eh?"

"No, sir--never filled. Born 'ungry, I reckon. But filled as much as you
could fill me, bless your 'eart. I aren't never goin' to forget that,
Gov'nor--no fear. An eater and a scrapper I am, sir; and I'll scrap for
_you_, sir, while there's a bloomin' breff left in my blessed body!
Gimme the tip wot kind of work I _can_ do for you, Gov'nor, will you? I
want to get them two 'arf-crowns off my conscience as quick as I can."

Cleek looked at him and smiled again.