“’Not a drum was ‘eard, not a funereal note’

“an’ there was you s’ pale an’ nigh t’ death—­”

“You said all that afore, Old Un!” growled Joe.

“You leave me alone, Joe,” said the Old Un, scowling and flourishing a trembling fist, “you lemme be, or you’ll be pale an’ nigh t’ death next.  Well, there was you, Guv, an’ all s’ pale an’ still when:  ’’Oo giveth this woman?’ says the parson-cove very solemn.  ‘That’s me!’ says I, quick an’ ready.  An’ so, me ‘avin’ ‘elped t’ marry you, I’ve brought Joe an’ Spider t’ wish you ‘ealth an’ ‘appiness an’ a j’y continual.  Now, Joe, it’s your round—­speak up!”

“Sir,” said Joe heavily, “I—­we—­I mean—­Lord, sir, I am that glad—­ah, glad as—­as never was—­”

“That’ll do for you, Joe!” snapped the Old Un.  “Spider’s round.”

Hereupon the Spider lurched forward, hunched his wide shoulders, took off his smart cap, and stared at it very hard.

“Bo,” said he, chewing vigorously, “I mean boss—­er—­no, that ain’t right either—­this is sure a bum start I’m makin’—­”

“Bo’ will do, Spider,” said Ravenslee, “let it go at that.”

“Why then, bo, I ain’t one as is ever goin’ t’ win any gold-mounted testimonials at any talk-fest or heart-throbbin’ spiel-act, but what I wanter tell you is this—­an’ I guess you know I ain’t only breathin’ out puffs o’ hot air—­I want yer t’ know as I feel about you like—­like Joe an’ the Old Un does—­an’ then some more.  Y’ see, bo, though I ain’t never held a straight flush agin four aces an’ don’t expect to, though I shan’t ever be a world’s champion like Joe here—­I guess I know to-day what it feels like, because you ain’t goin’ t’ snuff it, after all—­an’ now I guess you’re on.”  Saying which, the Spider dexterously shifted his wad to the other cheek and chewed faster than ever.

“I am, Spider, and I want you to know I’m grateful to you, all three.  Also I want to thank you all for keeping this affair out of the papers, though how you managed it beats me.”

“Guv,” cried the Old Un, tremulous and eager, “oh, Guv, we’re fair sleuth-hounds, we are—­specially me.  There ain’t a ’tective nor secret-service cove nor bloomin’ bobby fit to black our shoes—­specially mine!  Y’ see, Guv, I know who done it; Joe thinks he knows; an’ Spider don’t think at all!”

“Oh?” said Ravenslee, and looking around, caught the Spider watching him wide-eyed, his jaws grimly tense and immobile; but meeting his glance, the Spider lowered his eyes, shifted his smartly-gaitered legs, and chewed viciously.

“So, Guv,” piped the Old Un cheerily, “we’re out for the criminal’s gore—­specially me.  We’re goin’ to track the perisher to ’is ’orrible doom—­

“’Where’er he be
 To th’ gallers tree
 Oh, Guv, we mean t’ bring him;
 An’ laugh with j’y
 When nice an’ ’igh
 The blinkin’ bobbies swing ‘im.’”

“And you think you know who it was?”