men," said the Jew, replacing the club; "but they're clever, and we can't get on in our line without 'em.—Charley, show Oliver to bed."
"I suppose he'd better not wear his best clothes to-morrow, Fagin, had he?" inquired Charley Bates.
"Certainly not," replied the Jew, reciprocating the grin with which Charley put the question.
Master Bates, apparently much delighted with his commission, took the cleft stick, and led Oliver into an adjacent kitchen, where there were two or three of the beds on which he had slept before; and here, with many uncontrollable bursts of laughter, he produced the identical old suit of clothes which Oliver had so much congratulated himself upon leaving off at Mr. Brownlow's, and the accidental display of which to Fagin by the Jew who purchased them, had been the very first clue received of his whereabout.
"Pull off the smart ones," said Charley, "and I'll give 'em to Fagin to take care of. What fun it is!"
