"P'r'aps when we get back there won't be any cart; some one will have run away with it.

They're rum uns here in London." "Why, you haven't left the cart alone, Ike," I cried.
"That's a good one, that is," he exclaimed.

"You haven't left the cart alone! Why, you and Shock did." "Yes," I said; "but--" "There, come and let's see," he said gruffly.

"We should look well, we two, going back home without a cart, and old Bonyparty took away and cut up for goodness knows what and his skin made into leather.

Come along." We walked quickly, for it seemed as if this was going to be a day all misfortunes; but as we reached the market again I found that Ike had not left the cart untended, for a man was there by the horse, and the big whip curved over in safety from where it was stuck.
"Seen anything of our other boy ?" said Ike as we reached the cart.
"No," was the reply.
"Hadn't we better go back and look for him ?" I said anxiously.
"Well, I don't know," said Ike, rubbing one ear; "he ain't so much consequence as you." "I've been to Paris and I've been to Do-ho-ver." "Why, there he is," I cried; and, climbing up the wheel, there lay Shock on his back right on the top of the baskets, and as soon as he saw my face he grinned and then turned his back.
"He's all right," I said as I descended; and just then there was a creaking noise among the baskets, and Shock's head appeared over the edge.
"Here y'are," he cried.