Denton and Haughton Examiner, etc. — 1883-07-14 (Denton, Greater Manchester, England)

THE EXAMINER-SATURDAY, JULY 14, lBB3  for sack Burt and three of his rills They walked into it as neat as you please, and we should have had 'em safe if, when it came to the rally, Jack hadn't caught my poor Bob a clip on the top o' the head with a neddy, it sent a shiver to my heart to hear. Felled like an or in the shambles, was Bob; stunned, senseless. I rushed to pick him up. The cmcksmen got any. My poor chum was never his own man again. Something was wrong with his brain, the doctors said. He got sort o' paralysed, dwindled and dwindled away till a child might ha' spanned his limbs; and went off at last as peaceful as a baby. "I was with him the night he died. stye he, in a whisper so faint I had to lay my ear upon his lips to catch the sound—. Bill. I'm done for this time. Jack Burt's my murderer. Look after him for the sake of your old mate. Good-bye, Bill!' Those were the last words he ever spoke. I swore then I'd be even with Jack Burt; and, by Heaven, I'll keep asp word!" He dashed the drops from his cheeks, and left the station quickly, with a set and resolute face. The inspector gazed after him a moment pityingly, then turned agsi.n.to.his  "1 wouldn't be in your skin, Jack Burt, for trifle," he muttered, " when Bill Sharpit's on your track. No, not for a thousand pound." While Sharpit was detailing to his comrade his reasons for cherishing a deadly hatred against Jack Burt, Supple was seated with the Jew Ikey in a low public-house in Ratcliff Highway. The parlour was empty, save of the two men, but they put their heads close together, and conversed in low and cautious tones.  "So the pigeon's winged, ma tear, at lasht," mid lkey, with a sneer, "end tumbled right into the cat's clawsh. Poor pigeon!. " They've got him tight enough," replied Supple, grinning," and deuced glad 1 one, for he was getting an awful bore. Would you believe it, Flimper, the fool began to snivel about his conscience not allowing him to waste his life P Tlu re ain't many things I object to, as you know; but that was really more than a man could stand. So, the opportunity coming, I made the most of it."  _ Ash you always do, ma tear—ash you always do. Ah, Jack ! it's a real pleasure to see a pupil do such credit to his old master. Of all tho young chapels rve put in the ray of getting a nest-rate, reaps, table living, not van on 'em's took to it so natural."  "Stow that, Flimper," retorted Supple, gruffly. "It's too stale. You've had Tour share of the youngster's pickings, sad you won t get any more." "Holy Mostiesh !" cried the Jew, throwing up his hands in affected ecetacy. "Vhut a poy it ii! vhat a poy! Shusbpeots his old master! Vhat a poy ! But look here, Jack, ma tear, there lash two notes, you say' you gave the greenhorn—two fivers vhat you had from me. Now, there's a tootle trifle of commission due on them, my poy. Fifteen bob each. Moshe% forget poor old Ikey's commission, ma tear." . _  The Jew stretched out bin lean and skinny claw to his companion, who thrust it back again with huge disdain. 'Why, you Insatiable old "cormorant !" he cried, "didn't I tell you the fool was nabbed before he paid me back ? You don't suppose I'm such a flat as to shell out tin rye never had. Not so green, I can tell you!" "Oh, tear! oh, tear !" moaned the Jew. "Vhat a conscience ! And yen won't give poor old They his commission for furnishin' yer with the means o' plucking the pigcon ? If it hadn't been for the flimshies, how would yer ha' got rid of him, I should like to know?" _ .  " Isn't there the river, you foolr asked Supple, smiling grimly; 'the dark, swift, silent river, that takes in the desperate man, calls him a suicide, and tells no tales. But violence wouldn't have been necessary. He'd have drunk himself to death in another month. Hie capture has saved his life." . . .  "So far gone as tha, eh ?" rejoined Ikey, with much interest. "Jack, ma tear, I always ahaid,you vas a genius. 'That a vonderful chap you are !' He surveyed his pupil with a look of admiration, putting his head on one side to look at him the bet. ter—as a man falls back to get a fine picture in the proper light. "And you won't let poor old Ike, have his 'cote' communion ?" he flaked, in a fawning tone, loOking up in Supple's face, beseechingly. "Veil, there, there, ma tear, don't be angry. %VII shay no more about it. Now, look here; thorns no chance o' the youngster nosing, is there ?" "If he does he can do no harm. I've never let him know where I'm to be found. But I've not done with him yet. We'll have the last moat off his bones' they, share and share alike. This is my plan. Here's his address. It's not safe for me to be seen there, but nobody knows you. Go to-morrow, early, with this letter for his landlady. It tells her he's obliged to leave town suddenly, but you'll pay what he owes, and send off his effects. You twig ? The boxes go to a railway-station first, then are fetched here. There'll be a clear fifty apiece for each of us, and I take it that's a pretty tidy coin=Wien."  The Jew rose from his chair, and cast himself, bi the excess of his exultation, into his astonished coma panion's arms. "Jack," he exclaimed, "you're shtnpendous— majestic ! Oh, ma tear chat a ahplendid beak's 104 to society us you!" (To be continued.)  "