As soon as Blinky Bill recognised his visitor, he was delighted.

“You here,” he said, “Ha, ha, revenge is mine! I'll get a tidy reward for taking you back, my young shaver.”

Then from the unresisting child he took a gold watch and three sovereigns. These he said he would put in a safe place for him, till he was going home again. He expected to get at least a tenner ready money for bringing Algy back, and hoped that he might be allowed to keep the watch into the bargain.

With a light heart he went down town with Algy's watch and sovereigns in his pocket. He did not return till daylight, when he awoke his wife with bad news.

“Can't give the boy up,” he said. “I moskenoed his block and tackle, and blued it in the school.” In other words, he had pawned the boy's watch and chain, and had lost the proceeds at pitch and toss.

“Nothing for it but to move,” he said, “and take the kid with us.”

So move they did.

The reader can imagine with what frantic anxiety the father and mother of little Algy sought for their lost one. They put the matter into the hands of the detective police, and waited for the Sherlock Holmeses of the force to get in their fine work. There was nothing doing.

Years rolled on, and the mysterious disappearance of little Algy was yet unsolved. The horse-dealer's revenge was complete.

The boy's mother consulted a clairvoyant, who murmured mystically “What went by the ponies, will come by the ponies;” and with that they had to remain satisfied.