are gone. He intended to take them round to Pye, and I left him going
rampant over the loss. Didn't I chaff him?"

Hurst laughed. He unbuttoned the pocket of his trousers, and partially
exhibited two rusty keys. "I was not going to leave them to Ketch for
witnesses," said he. "I saw him throw them into the tray last night,
and I walked them out again, while he was talking to the crowd."

"I say, Hurst, don't be such a ninny as to keep them about you!"
exclaimed Berkeley, in a fright. "Suppose Pye should go in for a search
this morning, and visit our pockets? You'd floor us at once!"

"The truth is, I don't know where to put them," ingenuously
acknowledged Hurst. "If I hid them at home, they'd be found; if I
dropped them in the street, some hullaballoo might arise from it."

"Let's carry them back to the old-iron shop, and get the fellow to buy
them back at half-price!"

"Catch him doing that! Besides, the trick is sure to get wind in the
town; he might be capable of coming forward and declaring that we
bought the keys at his shop."

"Let's throw 'em down old Pye's well!"

"They'd come up again in the bucket, as ghosts do!"

"Couldn't we make a railway parcel of them, and direct it to 'Mr.
Smith, London?'"