“Just as you like,” said Mr. Gibbs, turning a deaf ear to the frenzied expostulations of his financial backers.  “Wot is it?”

[Illustration:  Mr. Gibbs, with his back against the post, fought for nearly half an hour]

He sat in amazed discomfort during the operation, and emerging with his friends remarked that he felt half a stone lighter.  The information was received in stony silence, and, having spent some time in the selection, they found a quiet public-house, and in a retired corner formed themselves into a Committee of Ways and Means.

“That’ll do for you to go on with,” said Mr. Kidd, after he and Mr. Brown had each made a contribution; “and, mind, it’s coming off of your share.”

Mr. Gibbs nodded.  “And any evening you want to see me you’ll find me in here,” he remarked.  “Beer’s ripping.  Now you’d better go and see my old woman.”

The two friends departed, and, to their great relief, found a little knot of people outside the abode of Mrs. Gibbs.  It was clear that the news had been already broken, and, pushing their way upstairs, they found the widow with a damp handkerchief in her hand surrounded by attentive friends.  In feeble accents she thanked Mr. Kidd for his noble attempts at rescue.

“He ain’t dry yet,” said Mr. Brown.

“I done wot I could,” said Mr. Kidd, simply.  “Pore Joe!  Nobody could ha’ had a better pal.  Nobody!”

“Always ready to lend a helping ’and to them as was in trouble, he was,” said Mr. Brown, looking round.

“’Ear, ’ear!” said a voice.

“And we’ll lend ’im a helping ’and,” said Mr. Kidd, energetically.  “We can’t do ’im no good, pore chap, but we can try and do something for ’er as is left behind.”

He moved slowly to the door, accompanied by Mr. Brown, and catching the eye of one or two of the men beckoned them to follow.  Under his able guidance a small but gradually increasing crowd made its way to the “Red Lion.”  For the next three or four days the friends worked unceasingly.  Cards stating that a Friendly Lead would be held at the “Red Lion,” for the benefit of the widow of the late Mr. Joseph Gibbs, were distributed broadcast; and anecdotes portraying a singularly rare and beautiful character obtained an even wider circulation.  Too late Wapping realized the benevolent disposition and the kindly but unobtrusive nature that had departed from it for ever.

Mr. Gibbs, from his retreat across the water, fully shared his friends’ enthusiasm, but an insane desire—­engendered by vanity—­to be present at the function was a source of considerable trouble and annoyance to them.  When he offered to black his face and take part in the entertainment as a nigger minstrel, Mr. Kidd had to be led outside and kept there until such time as he could converse in English pure and undefiled.

“Getting above ’imself, that’s wot it is,” said Mr. Brown, as they wended their way home.  “He’s having too much money out of us to spend; but it won’t be for long now.”