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He stood me two ‘arf-pints and was just going to order another, when ‘e found ‘e ‘adn’t got any money left, and he wouldn’t hear of me paying for it, because ‘e said it was his treat.

“We’ll ‘ave a quid out o’ the box,” he ses. “I must ‘ave one to go on with, anyway.” I shook my ‘ead at ‘im.

“Only one,” he ses, “and that’ll last me a fortnight. Besides, I want to give you the quid I promised you.”

I gave way at last, and he put his ‘and in ‘is trouser-pocket for the key, and then found it wasn’t there.

“I must ha’ left it in my chest,” he ses. “I’ll ‘op back and get it.” And afore I could prevent ‘im he ‘ad waved his ‘and at me and gorn.

My fust idea was to go arter ‘im, but I knew I couldn’t catch ‘im, and if I tried to meet ‘im coming back I should most likely miss ‘im through the side streets. So I sat there with my pipe and waited.

I suppose I ‘ad been sitting down waiting for him for about ten minutes, when a couple o’ sailormen came into the bar and began to make themselves a nuisance. Big fat chaps they was, and both of ’em more than ‘arf sprung. And arter calling for a pint apiece they began to take a little notice of me.

“Where d’you come from?” ses one of ’em. “‘Ome,” I ses, very quiet.

“It’s a good place–‘ome,” ses the chap, shaking his ‘ead. “Can you sing “Ome, Sweet ‘Ome’? You seem to ‘ave got wot I might call a ‘singing face.'”

“Never mind about my face,” I ses, very sharp. “You mind wot you’re doing with that beer. You’ll ‘ave it over in a minute.”

The words was ‘ardly out of my mouth afore ‘e gave a lurch and spilt his pint all over me. From ‘ead to foot I was dripping with beer, and I was in such a temper I wonder I didn’t murder ‘im; but afore I could move they both pulled out their pocket-‘ankerchers and started to rub me down.

“That’ll do,” I ses at last, arter they ‘ad walked round me ‘arf-a-dozen times and patted me all over to see if I was dry. “You get off while you’re safe.”

“It was my mistake, mate,” ses the chap who ‘ad spilt the beer.

“You get outside,” I ses. “Go on, both of you, afore I put you out.”

They gave one look at me, standing there with my fists clenched, and then they went out like lambs, and I ‘eard ’em trot round the corner as though they was afraid I was following. I felt a little bit damp and chilly, but beer is like sea-water–you don’t catch cold through it–and I sat down agin to wait for George Tebb.

He came in smiling and out ‘o breath in about ten minutes’ time, with the key in ‘is ‘and, and as soon as I told ‘im wot had ‘appened to me with the beer he turned to the landlord and ordered me six o’ rum ‘ot at once.

“Drink that up,” he ses, ‘anding it to me; “but fust of all give me the box, so as I can pay for it.”

I put my ‘and in my pocket. Then I put it in the other one, and arter that I stood staring at George Tebb and shaking all over.

“Wot’s the matter? Wot are you looking like that for?” he ses.

“It must ha’ been them two,” I ses, choking. “While they was purtending to dry me and patting me all over they must ‘ave taken it out of my pocket.”

“Wot are you talking about?” ses George, staring at me.

“The box ‘as gorn,” I ses, putting down the ‘ot rum and feeling in my trouser-pocket. “The box ‘as gorn, and them two must ‘ave taken it.”

“Gorn!” ses George. “Gorn! My box with twenty-five pounds in, wot I trusted you with, gorn? Wot are you talking about? It can’t be–it’s too crool!”