Charley had, at this moment, in his pocket a certain document, which in civil but still somewhat peremptory language invited him to meet a very celebrated learned pundit, being no less than one of Her Majesty's puisne judges, at some court in Westminster, to explain why he declined to pay to one Nathaniel Outerman, a tailor, the sum of &c., &c., &c.; and the document then went on to say, that any hesitation on Charley's part to accept this invitation would be regarded as great contempt shown to the said learned pundit, and would be treated accordingly.

Now Charley had not paid the slightest attention to this requisition from the judge.

It would, he conceived, have been merely putting his head into the lion's mouth to do so.

But yet he knew that such documents meant something; that the day of grace was gone by, and that Mr.
Nathaniel Outerman would very speedily have him locked up.
So Charley sat meditative over his lock entries, and allowed even his proposed vengeance on Mr.Snape to be delayed.
'I say, Charley,' said Scatterall, coming over and whispering to him, 'you couldn't lend me half a crown, could you ?' Charley said nothing, but looked on his brother navvy in a manner that made any other kind of reply quite unnecessary.
'I was afraid it was so,' said Scatterall, in a melancholy voice.
And then, as if by the brilliance of his thought he had suddenly recovered his spirits, he made a little proposition.
'I'll tell you what you might do, Charley.

I put my watch up the spout last week.