Then he saw the three gold balls above the door of the friendly pawnbroker.
He looked, hesitated, shrugged his shoulders, and went in.
"Hullo!" said the pawnbroker, "here we are again. Want to pawn the rattle, eh?"
"No," said Dickie, "but what'll you give me on the seal you gave me?"
The pawnbroker stared, frowned, and burst out laughing.
"If you don't beat all!" he said. "I give you a present, and you come to pledge it with me! You should have been one of our people! So you want to pledge the seal. Well, well!"
"I'd much rather not," said Dickie seriously, "because I love it very much. But I must have my fare to Gravesend. My father's there, waiting for me. And I don't want to leave Tinkler behind."
He showed the rattle.
"What's the fare to Gravesend?"
"Don't know. I thought you'd know. Will you give me the fare for the seal?"
The pawnbroker hesitated and looked hard at him. "No," he said, "no. The seal's not worth it. Not but what it's a very good seal," he added, "very good indeed."
"See here," said Dickie suddenly, "I know what honour is now, and the word of a gentleman. You will not let me pledge the seal with you. Then let me pledge my word—my word of honour. Lend me the money to take me to
