“Come on!  Tell us what it is,” broke in the other.  “You don’t expect us to take your word.”

“It is as easy as lying,” replied Toto.  “Listen a bit, and you shall have the whole bag of tricks.  Suppose I saw Polyte steal a couple of pairs of boots from a trotter-case seller’s stall——­”

Polyte interrupted the narrator, protesting so strongly that he would not commit such an act, that Tantaine perceived at once that some such trifling act of larceny weighed heavily on his conscience.

“You needn’t kick up such a row,” returned Toto.  “I am only just putting it as a thing that might happen.  We will say you had done the trick, and that I had twigged you.  Do you know what I should go?  Well, I would hunt up Polyte, and say quietly, ‘Halves, old man, or I will split.’”

“And I should give you a crack in the jaw,” returned Polyte angrily.

Forgetting his fine dress, Toto playfully put his thumb to his nose and extended his fingers.

“You would not be such an ass,” said he.  “You would say to yourself, ’If I punch this chap, he will kick up no end of a row, and I shall be taken up, and perhaps sent to the mill.’  No; you would be beastly civil, and would end by doing just as I wished.”

“And this is what you call your business, is it?”

“Isn’t it a good one—­the mugs stand the racket, and the downy cards profit by it?”

“But there is no novelty in this; it is only blackmail after all.”

“I never said it wasn’t; but it is blackmailing perfected into a system.”

As Toto made this reply he hammered on the table, calling for more drink.

“But,” remarked Polyte, with an air of disappointment, “you don’t get chances every day, and the business is often a precious poor one.  You can’t always be seeing chaps prigging boots.”

“Pooh! pooh!” answered Toto, “if you want to make money in this business, you must keep your eyes about you.  Our customers don’t come to you, but there is nothing to prevent you going to them.  You can hunt until you find them.”

“And where are you to hunt, if you please?”

“Ah, that’s tellings.”

A long silence ensued, during which Tantaine was half tempted to come forward.  By doing so he would assuredly nip all explanations in the bud; but, on the other hand, he wanted to hear all the young rascal had to say.  He therefore only moved a little nearer, and listened more intently.

Forgetting his curls, Toto was abstractedly passing his fingers through his hair, and reflecting with all the wisdom of a muddled brain.  Finally, he came to the conclusion that he might speak, and, leaning forward, he whispered,—­

“You won’t peach if I tell you the dodge?”

His companions assured him that he might have every confidence in them.

“Very well; I make my money in the Champs Elysees, and sometimes get a harvest twice a day.”