lay 'e could 'ardly thank 'im enough.

He stayed in the bedroom all day, with the blinds down, and wouldn't eat
anything, and when Ginger looked in about eight o'clock to find out
whether he 'ad gone, he found 'im sitting on the bed clean shaved, and
'is face cut about all over where the razor 'ad slipped.

Ginger was gone about two hours, and when 'e came back he looked so
solemn that old Sam asked 'im whether he 'ad seen a ghost. Ginger didn't
answer 'im; he set down on the side o' the bed and sat thinking.

"I s'pose--I s'pose it's nice and fresh in the streets this morning?"
ses Bill, at last, in a trembling voice.

Ginger started and looked at 'im. "I didn't notice, mate," he ses. Then
'e got up and patted Bill on the back, very gentle, and sat down again.

[Illustration: "Patted Bill on the back, very gentle."]

"Anything wrong, Ginger?" asks Peter Russet, staring at 'im.

"It's that landlord," ses Ginger; "there's straw down in the road
outside, and they say that he's dying. Pore old Bill don't know 'is own
strength. The best thing you can do, old pal, is to go as far away as
you can, at once."

"I shouldn't wait a minnit if it was me," ses old Sam.

Bill groaned and hid 'is face in his 'ands, and then Peter Russet went
and spoilt things by saying that the safest place for a murderer to 'ide