old the shirt off 'is back to oblige a pal, and three times in one
week he got 'is face scratched for trying to prevent 'usbands knocking
their wives about.

Charlie Tagg went to 'im because he was the only man 'e could trust, and
for over arf an hour he was telling Jack Bates all 'is troubles, and at
last, as a great favour, he let 'im see the Sydney gal's photygraph, and
told him that all that pore gal's future 'appiness depended upon 'im.

"I'll step round to-night and rob 'em of that seventy-two pounds," ses
Jack; "it's your money, and you've a right to it."

Charlie shook his 'ead. "That wouldn't do," he ses; "besides, I don't
know where they keep it. No; I've got a better plan than that. Come
round to the Crooked Billet, so as we can talk it over in peace and
quiet."

He stood Jack three or four arf-pints afore 'e told 'im his plan, and
Jack was so pleased with it that he wanted to start at once, but Charlie
persuaded 'im to wait.

"And don't you spare me, mind, out o' friendship," ses Charlie, "because
the blacker you paint me the better I shall like it."

"You trust me, mate," ses Jack Bates; "if I don't get that seventy-two
pounds for you, you may call me a Dutchman. Why, it's fair robbery, I
call it, sticking to your money like that."

They spent the rest o' the day together, and when evening came Charlie
went off to the Cooks'. Emma 'ad arf expected they was going to a
theayter that night, but Charlie said he wasn't feeling the thing, and he
sat there so quiet and miserable they didn't know wot to make of 'im.

"'Ave you got any trouble on your mind, Charlie," ses Mrs. Cook, "or is
it the tooth-ache?"

"It ain't the toothache," ses Charlie.

He sat there pulling a long face and staring at the floor, but all Mrs.
Cook and Emma could do 'e wouldn't tell them wot was the matter with 'im.
He said 'e didn't want to worry other people with 'is troubles; let
everybody bear their own, that was 'is motto. Even when George Smith
offered to go to the theayter with Emma instead of 'im he didn't fire up,
and, if it 'adn't ha' been for Mrs. Cook, George wouldn't ha' been sorry
that 'e spoke.

"Theayters ain't for me," ses Charlie, with a groan. "I'm more likely to
go to gaol, so far as I can see, than a theayter."

Mrs. Cook and Emma both screamed and Sarah Ann did 'er first
highstericks, and very well, too, considering that she 'ad only just
turned fifteen.

"Gaol!" ses old Cook, as soon as they 'ad