"And putting it on to me with the toothache," ses Ginger. "No; you can
look arter 'im, Sam, while me and Peter goes off and enjoys ourselves;
and if you get anything we go shares, mind."

"All right," ses Sam, turning away with the dog.

"And suppose Sam gets a reward or sells it, and then tells us that it
ran away and 'e lost it?" ses Peter.

"O' course; I never thought o' that," ses Ginger. "You've got your 'ead
on straight, Peter."

"I see 'im smile, that's why," ses Peter Russet.

"You're a liar," ses Sam.

"We'll stick together," ses Ginger. "Leastways, one of us'll keep with
you, Sam."

They settled it that way at last, and while Ginger went for a walk down
round about where they 'ad found the dog, Sam Small and Peter waited for
him in a little public-'ouse down Limehouse way. Their idea was that
there would be bills up, and when Ginger came back and said there
wasn't, they 'ad a lot to say about people wot wasn't fit to 'ave dogs
because they didn't love 'em.

They 'ad a miserable day. When the dog got sick o' sitting in a pub 'e
made such a noise they 'ad to take 'im out; and when 'e got tired o'
walking about he sat down on the pavement and they 'ad to drag 'im along
to the nearest pub agin. At five o'clock in the arternoon Ginger Dick