Mr. Brisher's voice sank to a whisper, and once more he spoke behind
his hand. His manner was suddenly suffused with a positive joy. “Issuing
counterfeit coins,” he said. “Counterfeit coins!”
“You don't mean to say--?”
“Yes-It. Bad. Quite a long case they made of it. But they got 'im,
though he dodged tremenjous. Traced 'is 'aving passed, oh!--nearly a
dozen bad 'arf-crowns.”
“And you didn't--?”
“No fear. And it didn't do 'IM much good to say it was treasure trove.”