great-coats; Barney, opening a cupboard, brought forth several articles, which he hastily crammed into the pockets.
‘Barkers for me, Barney,’ said Toby Crackit.
‘Here they are,’ replied Barney, producing a pair of pistols. ‘You loaded them yourself.’
‘All right!’ replied Toby, stowing them away. ‘The persuaders?’
‘I’ve got ‘em,’ replied Sikes.
‘Crape, keys, centre-bits, darkies — nothing forgotten?’ inquired Toby: fastening a small crowbar to a loop inside the skirt of his coat.
‘All right,’ rejoined his companion. ‘Bring them bits of timber, Barney. That’s