J. H. 'Flannelfoot' Boggis and Nephews
Bespoke Thieves
'The Old Firm'
(Estblshd AM 1789)
All type Theft carryed out Professionly and
with Disgression
Houses cleared. 24-hr service. No job too small.
LET US QUOTE YOU FOR OUR FAMILY RATE
'It seems to be in order,' he said reluctantly.
Hwel paused in the act of helping the dazed victim to his feet.
'In order?' he shouted. 'To rob someone?'
'We'll give him a chitty, of course,' said Boggis. 'Lucky we found him first, really. Some of these newcomers in the business, they've got no idea.'[18]
'Cowboys,' agreed a nephew.
'How much did you steal?' said Tomjon.
Boggis opened the clown's purse, which was stuck in his belt. Then he went pale.
'Oh, bleeding hell,' he said, The Nephews clustered around.
'We're for it, sort of thing.'
'Second time this year, uncle.'
Boggis glared at the victim.
'Well, how was I to know? I wasn't to know, was I? I mean, look at him, how much would you expect him to have on him? Couple of coppers, right? I mean, we'd never have done for him, only it was on our way home. You try and do someone a favour, this is what happens.'
'How much has he got, then?' said Tomjon.
'There must be a hundred silver dollars in here,' moaned Boggis, waving a purse. 'I mean, that's not my league. That's not my class. I can't handle that sort of money. You've got to be in the Guild of Lawyers or something to steal that much. It's way over my quota, is that.'
'Give it back then,' said Tomjon.
'But I done him a receipt!'
'They've all got, you know, numbers on,' explained the younger of the nephews. 'The Guild checks up, sort of . . .'
Hwel grabbed Tomjon's hand.
'Will you excuse us a moment?' he said to the frantic thief, and dragged Tomjon to the other side of the alley.
'Okay,' he said. 'Who's gone mad? Them? Me? You?'
Tomjon explained.
'It's legal?'