sell it anyway, and perhaps you won't even
get the reward. We can be at Orange Villa as soon as wot you can."
"Sooner," ses Ginger, nodding. "But there's no need to do that. If 'e
don't go shares I'll slip round to the police-station fust thing in the
morning."
"You know the way there all right," ses Sam, very bitter.
"And we don't want none o' your back-answers," ses Ginger. "Are you
going shares or not?"
"Wot about the money I paid for it?" ses Sam, "and my trouble?"
Ginger and Peter sat down on the bed to talk it over, and at last, arter
calling themselves a lot o' bad names for being too kind-'earted, they
offered 'im five pounds each for their share in the locket.
"And that means you've got your share for next to nothing, Sam," ses
Ginger.
"Some people wouldn't 'ave given you any-thing," ses Peter.
Sam gave way at last, and then 'e stood by making nasty remarks while
Ginger wrote out a paper for them all to sign, because he said he had
known Sam such a long time.
It was a'most daylight afore they got to sleep, and the fust thing Ginger
did when he woke was to wake Sam up, and offer to shake 'ands with him.
The noise woke Peter up, and, as Sam wouldn't shake 'ands with 'im
either, they both patted him on the back instead.
They made him take 'em to the little pub, arter breakfast, to read the
bill about the reward. Sam didn't mind going, as it 'appened, as he
'oped to meet 'is new pal there and tell 'im his troubles, but, though
they stayed there some time, 'e didn't turn up. He wasn't at the
coffee-shop for dinner, neither.
Peter and Ginger was in 'igh spirits, and, though Sam told 'em plain that
he would sooner walk about with a couple of real pickpockets, they
wouldn't leave 'im an inch.
"Anybody could steal it off of you, Sam," ses Ginger, patting 'im on the
weskit to make sure the locket was still there. "It's a good job you've
got us to look arter you."
"We must buy 'im a money-belt with a pocket in it," ses Peter.
Ginger nodded at 'im. "Yes," he ses, "that would be safer. And he'd
better wear it next to 'is skin, with everything over it. I should feel
more comfortable then."
"And wot about me?" says Sam, turning on 'im.
"Well, we'll take it in turns," ses Ginger. "You one day, and then me,
and then Peter."
Sam gave way at last, as arter all he could see it was the safest thing
to do, but he 'ad so much to say about it that they got fair sick of the
sound of 'i
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