'What's the matter?' inquired the Dodger.

'Ha! ha! ha!' roared Charley Bates.

'Hold your noise,' remonstrated the Dodger, looking cautiously
round. 'Do you want to be grabbed, stupid?'

'I can't help it,' said Charley, 'I can't help it! To see him
splitting away at that pace, and cutting round the corners, and
knocking up again' the posts, and starting on again as if he was
made of iron as well as them, and me with the wipe in my pocket,
singing out arter him--oh, my eye!' The vivid imagination of
Master Bates presented the scene before him in too strong
colours. As he arrived at this apostrophe, he again rolled upon
the door-step, and laughed louder than before.

'What'll Fagin say?' inquired the Dodger; taking advantage of the
next interval of breathlessness on the part of his friend to
propound the question.

'What?' repeated Charley Bates.

'Ah, what?' said the Dodger.

'Why, what should he say?' inquired Charley: stopping rather
suddenly in his merriment; for the Dodger's manner was
impressive. 'What should he say?'

Mr. Dawkins whistled for a couple of minutes; then, taking off
his hat, scratched his head, and nodded thrice.