my gang, quarrying, and I won't work you
'ard except I'm druv to it, but I want wide men in my gang,' I says,
'and no putting the stick on agen the screw.' 'Don't understand,' he
says. 'Then follow a straight tip,' I says; 'stand by your warder and
he'll stand by you.' Blest if that lag as I'd give that good advice to
didn't get me fined the very next day."

"Never!" said sundry incredulous voices.

"It was a hot afternoon, and I'd just whipped a quid in my mouth and
leaned atop of my musket for forty winks after dinner. The second-timers
was codding afront of me, and 2001 and the young chap as was dying of
the consumption was wheeling and filling ahead. Well, up comes the
governor right in front of 2001, and shouts, 'Warder,' he shouts,
'you're fined for inattention.' Then off he goes. All right, Mr. 2001, I
says, I'll not misremember."

"What did you do?"

"Do?" (a loud, hollow laugh). "That was when the barracks was building,
and one day a bit of a newspaper blowed over from the officers'
quarters, and 2001 came on it, and the botcher picked it up. He'd
chucked hisself quick. 'Right about face--march.' He got seven stretch,
a month's marks, and lost his bedding."

A hearty laugh followed this account of a "screw's" revenge on a "green"
convict. Hugh Ritson listened and shuddered.

"I ain't surprised at anything from that luny," said another voice. "He
was in my gang at the moor, and I know'd 'im. They put 'im in the
soap-suds gang first, but he got hisself shifted. Then they sent 'im
botching with the tailors, but he put out his broom for the governor,
and said a big lusty man same as 'im wasn't for sitting on a board all
day. The flat didn't want to fetch a easy lagging, that's the fact."

There was a loud guffaw.

"So they put 'im in my turf gang out on the moor, and one day a old
clergyman come in gaiters and a broad-brimmer, and a face as if the
master of the house were a-shaking at his hand, and the missis flopping
down-stairs to give him a smack of the lips. Well, 2001 saw him in
Principal Warder Rennell's office, and not afore the bars. So next day I
says, 'Got anybody outside as would like to send you summat by the
Underground?' 'The what?' he says, reg'lar black in the face. 'The
underground railway,' I says, tipping him a wink. 'Get away from me, you
bloodsucker!' he says. But I pinched 'im. The old lags were laughing at
one of the grave-digger's oyster-openers, when up comes Rennell. 'Who's
laug