I'd say thank ye to him if
I was you, Ben."
"Consterble Rigby!" shouted Toner.
"At your service, sir," replied the pensioner.
"I'm awful obligated to you, consterble, fer bringin' in my wayt close."
"Do not speak of it, sir," replied Mr. Rigby, with a large piece of
toast apparently in his mouth; "I am proud to do you a service, sir."
Ben was a big man, and somewhat erratic in his ways, so the constable
retired, and came back in his own garb, which he had carried out with
him. "I think, Miss Hill," he said, "that Mr. Toner's clothes are now
dry enough for him to wear them with safety. What do you think, Miss
Newcome?"
"Guess we kin take them off now," answered Serlizer.
"Serlizer," growled Ben, "you're an old cat, a desprit spiteful
chessacat, to go skylarkin' on yer own feller as never did yer no harm.
Gerlong with yer!"
Rufus came in for the breakfast things, and deposited Ben's clothes on
the bed. "It wasn't Serlizer, Ben, sure; If I was you I'd try the
nigger. Them darkies are always up to tricks."
Mr. Toner got into his clothes, resolved to have it out with somebody,
even if Rufus himself should prove to be the traitor.
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