Ching Ching's Novelettes No. 1: Snapson of the 'Snake' — page 12: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

( 12) ‘Look here, cap’n, I can see all about that,” said Dopper, with a hideous grin, “ without a light.” ‘What do you mean ?” demanded Snapson, with a frown and a bitter oath. ‘“‘T mean this,” said Dopper, banging his hand upon the table, ‘‘ that me and Grip know what’s been done ; and we know the boy ain’t fallen overboard, although you are going to try and make some people believe it.” “What do you mean ?” demanded Snapson. “I mean,” replied Dopper, ‘don’t pull out your shooter, cap’n, for I’ve one here”—he produced it as he spoke—‘‘and I'll use it too, I mean that you have murdered the boy, and we saw you pitch him overboard.” “It’s a lie!” ‘We did, and whatever is the price of the job we mean to stand in it,” A look of relief passed over Job Snapson’s face. “Tf that’s all,” he said, “you shall have your share. A hundred pounds apiece, if nobody else knows of it. Say, will that do?” “We ought to have half between us.” “Tt is half, or nearly so. Say, will it do, or will you compel me to swear that you killed the lad and pitched him overboard ?” Dopper changed colour. He saw that he was not going to have everything his own way, anda hundred pounds cash was better than nothing with the chances of a trial for murder. “Tt’s done, cap’n,” he said. “ Mum’s the word. But don’t try to shirk the pay, or I'll peach on you, and risk what may follow.” CHAPTER V. IN THE COUNTING-HOUSE OF WARRINGTON AND CO.—A PARAGRAPH IN AN EVENING PAPER—OFF TO PORTLAND—THE SETTLEMENT OF THE CONTRACT. RS G) "ye N a dingy counting-house in the heart of the City sat the old man O P4¢| Warrington, with an open ledger before him. No longer clad in agricultural attire, but clothed in black with a aca white tie round his neck, he was altogether a different person from the man who sat with Job Snapson in the old inn in Wapping. He now looked the very beau ideal of snug respectability, a model mer- chant engaged in business. But business for the day was over. The lights of the place, save one burning on his desk, were out, the clerks were gone, and all but one man waiting to close up the place had gone. The contents of that ledger did not please the merchant. “Unless I can raise ten thousand pounds,” he said with a groan, “ we must stop payment in a week’s time.” @ COIN LOOKS (SO)