the robbery, stated that he thought he knew the house, etc., to which the
infant had been consigned,--and that, if so, it was still alive; but that
he would inquire. He then related how the sanguine father, who saw that
hanging Dummie for the robbery of his house might not be half so likely a
method to recover his son as bribery and conciliation, not only forgave
him his former outrage, but whetted his appetite to the search by
rewarding him for his disclosure. He then proceeded to state how, unable
anywhere to find Paul, or any trace of him, he amused the sire from time
to time with forged excuses; how, at first, the sums he received made him
by no means desirous to expedite a discovery that would terminate such
satisfactory receipts; how at length the magnitude of the proffered
reward, joined to the threats of the sire, had made him become seriously
anxious to learn the real fate and present "whereabout" of Paul; how, the
last time he had seen the father, he had, by way of propitiation and
first fruit, taken to him all the papers left by the unhappy mother and
secreted by himself; and how he was now delighted to find that Ned was
acquainted with Paul's address. Since he despaired of finding Paul by
his own exertions alone, he became less tenacious of his secret; and he
now proffered Ned, on discovery of Paul, a third of that reward the whole
of which he had once hoped to engross.

Ned's eyes and mouth opened at this proposition. "But the name,--the
name of the father? You have not told me that yet!" cried he,
impatiently.

"Noa, noa!" said Dummie, archly, "I does n't tell you all, till you tells
I summut. Vhere's little Paul, I say; and vhere be us to get at him?"

Ned heaved a sigh.