sell 'im."

They 'ad another arf-pint each, and then, Ginger taking 'old of the
string, they went out into the street.

"Nine o'clock," ses Peter. "It's no good going 'ome yet, Ginger."

"We can 'ave a glass or two on the way," ses Ginger; "but I sha'n't feel
comfortable in my mind till we've got the dog safe 'ome. P'r'aps the
people wot 'ave lost it are looking for it now."

They 'ad another drink farther on, and a man in the bar took such a
fancy to the dog that 'e offered Ginger five shillings for it and drinks
round.

"That shows 'ow valuable it is," ses Peter Russet when they got outside.
"Hold that string tight, Ginger. Wot's the matter?"

"He won't come," ses Ginger, tugging at the string. "Come on, old chap!
Good dog! Come on!"

He stood there pulling at the dog, wot was sitting down and being
dragged along on its stummick. He didn't know its name, but 'e called
it a few things that seemed to ease 'is mind, and then he 'anded over
the string to Sam, wot 'ad been asking for it, and told 'im to see wot
he could do.

"We shall 'ave a crowd round us in a minute," ses Peter. "Mind you
don't bust a blood-vessel, Sam."

"And be locked up for stealing it, p'r'aps," ses Ginger. "Better let it
go, Sam."

"Wot, arter refusing five bob for it?" ses Sam. "Talk sense, Ginger,
and give it a shove be'ind."

Ginger gave it a shove, but it was no good. There was three or four
people coming along the road, and Sam made up 'is mind in an instant,
and 'eld up his 'and to a cab that was passing.

It took the three of 'em to get the dog into the cab, and as soon as it
was in the cabman told 'em to take it out agin. They argufied with 'im
till their tongues ached, and at last, arter paying 'im four shillings
and sixpence afore they started, he climbed up on the box and drove off.

The door was open when they got to their lodgings, but they 'ad to be
careful because o' the landlady. It took the three of 'em to pull and
push that dog upstairs, and Ginger took a dislike to dogs that 'e never
really got over. They got 'im in the bedroom at last, and, arter they
'ad given 'im a drink o' water out o' the wash-hand basin, Ginger and
Peter started to find fault with Sam Small.

"I know wot I'm about," ses Sam; "but, o' course, if you don't want your
share, say so. Wot?"

"Talk sense!" ses Ginger. "We paid our share o' the cab, didn't we?
And more fools us."

"There won't be no share," ses Peter Russet; "b