I'd take it in spite of him. He can't do nothin'."

"But I daren't; and even if I did I haven't got a penny to pay for a
van."

They neared the alley. Bill counted the flagstones, stepping from one
to another over the joints. "Eighteen-nineteen-twenty-twenty-one!"
he counted mentally, and came to the corner kerbing. Then he turned
suddenly and faced her.

"I'll tell you what to do," he said decidedly. "Can you get your things
ready by to-night? I know a cove that's got a cart."

"But I daren't. I'm afraid of the landlord."

"The more fool you," said Bill. "Well, I'm not afraid of him. He can't
do nothin'. I'm not afraid of a landlady, and that's worse. I know the
law. He can't do nothin'. You just do as I tell you."

"I'd want to think over it first, and see my sister-in-law."

"Where does your sister-'n-law live?"

"Not far."

"Well, see her, and think over it--you've got plenty of time to do it
in--and get your things ready by dark. Don't be frightened. I've shifted
mother and an aunt and two married sisters out of worse fixes than
yours. I'll be round after dark, and bring a push to lend a hand.
They're decent coves."

"But I can't expect your friend to shift me for nothing. I told you I
haven't got a---"

"Mrs Aspinall, I ain't that sort of a bloke, neither is my chum, and
neither is the other fellows--'relse they wouldn't be friends of mine.
Will you promise, Mrs Aspinall?"

"I'm afraid--I--I'd like to keep my few things now. I've kept them so
long. It's hard to lose my few bits of things--I wouldn't care so much
if I could keep the ironin' table."

"So you could, by law--it's necessary to your living, but it would cost
more'n the table. Now, don't be soft, Mrs Aspinall. You'll have the
bailiff in any day, and be turned out in the end without a rag. The law
knows no 'necessary.' You want your furniture more'n the landlord
does. He can't do nothin'. You can trust it all to me.... I knowed
Arvie.... Will you do it?"

"Yes, I will."

At about eight o'clock that evening there came a mysterious knock at
Mrs Aspinall's door. She opened, and there stood Bill. His attitude was
business-like, and his manner very impressive. Three other boys stood
along by the window, with their backs to the wall, deeply interested in
the emptying of burnt cigarette-ends into a piece of newspaper laid in
the crown of one of their hats, and a fourth stood a little way along
the kerb casually rolling a cigarette, and keepin