Hamper bent to Dunbar and whispered, beerily, in his ear: "P'r'aps 'e
don't want to 'ear, guv'nor!"

"Oh! Why not?"

"Well, 'e knows there's something up there!"

"Therefore it's his plain duty to assist the police."

"Same as what I does?" cried Hamper, raising his eyebrows. "Course it
is! but 'ow d'you know 'e ain't been got at?"

"Our friend, here, evidently has one up against Mr. Tom Brian!" muttered
Dunbar aside to Sowerby.

"Wotcher say, guv'nor?" inquired the cabman, looking from one to the
other.

"I say, no doubt you can save us the trouble of looking out Brian's
license, and give us his private address?" replied Dunbar.

"Course I can. 'E lives hat num'er 36 Forth Street, Brixton, and 'e's
out o' the big Brixton depot."

"Oh!" said Dunbar, dryly. "Does he owe you anything?"

"Wotcher say, guv'nor?"

"I say, it's very good of you to take all this trouble and whatever it
has cost you in time, we shall be pleased to put right."