The barrister laughed.
"Gentleman," he said, "why are you so surprised?
Which of you would not dirty his boots to recover such a valuable article as this ?" Some people grinned sympathetically.

They all moved away.
In an upper room of the neighbouring public-house were a suffering "runner" and a disconsolate "cabby." The "runner" could tell them nothing tangible concerning the man he pursued.
"I sawr 'im bring the hoss dahn like a bullick," he whispered, for the poor fellow had received a terrible blow.

"I went arter 'im, dodged rahnd the fust corner, an', bli-me, 'e gev me a punch that would 'ave 'arted Corbett." "What with--his fist ?" inquired Brett.
"Nah, guv'nor--'is 'eel, blawst 'im.

I could 'ave dodged a square blow.

I can use my dukes a bit myself." "What was the value of the punch ?" The youth tried to smile, though the effort tortured him.