“’We’ve all got a better chance than wot you ‘ave, Bob,’ ses little Dicky Weed the tailor.

“The quietest man o’ the whole lot was Bob Pretty”

“‘Ah, that’s your iggernerance, Dicky,’ ses Bob.  ’Come to think it over quiet like, I’m afraid I shall win it arter all.  Cos why?  Cos I deserves it.’

“They all laughed agin, and Bill Chambers laughed so ’arty that ’e joggled Peter Gubbins’s arm and upset ’is beer.

“‘Laugh away,’ ses Bob, pretending to get savage.  ’Them that laughs best laughs last, mind.  I’ll ‘ave that watch now, just to spite you all.’

“‘Ow are you going to get it, Bob?’ ses Sam Jones, jeering.

“‘Never you mind, mate,’ ses Bob, stamping ’is foot; ’I’m going to win it fair.  I’m going to ‘ave it for kindness to pore dumb animals.’

“Ear! ‘ear!’ ses Dicky Weed, winking at the others.  ’Will you ’ave a bet on it, Bob?’

“‘No,’ ses Bob Pretty; ’I don’t want to win no man’s money.  I like to earn my money in the sweat o’ my brow.’

“‘But you won’t win it, Bob,’ ses Dicky, grinning.  ’Look ’ere!  I’ll lay you a level bob you don’t get it.’

“Bob shook his ’ead, and started talking to Bill Chambers about something else.

“‘I’ll bet you two bob to one, Bob,’ ses Dicky.  ’Well, three to one, then.’

“Bob sat up and looked at’im for a long time, considering, and at last he ses, ‘All right,’ he ses, ’if Smith the landlord will mind the money I will.’

“He ‘anded over his shilling,’ but very slow-like, and Dicky Weed ’anded over ’is money.  Arter that Bob sat looking disagreeable like, especially when.  Dicky said wot ‘e was goin’ to do with the money, and by an by Sam Jones dared ’im to ’ave the same bet with ’im in sixpences.

“Bob Pretty ’ad a pint more beer to think it over, and arter Bill Chambers ’ad stood ’im another, he said ’e would.  He seemed a bit dazed like, and by the time he went ’ome he ’ad made bets with thirteen of ’em.  Being Saturday night they ’ad all got money on ’em, and, as for Bob, he always ’ad some.  Smith took care of the money and wrote it all up on a slate.

“’Why don’t you ‘ave a bit on, Mr. Smith?’ ses Dicky.

“‘Oh, I dunno,’ ses Smith, wiping down the bar with a wet cloth.

“‘It’s the chance of a lifetime,’ ses Dicky.

“‘Looks like it,’ ses Smith, coughing.

“’But ‘e can’t win,’ ses Sam Jones, looking a bit upset.  ’Why, Mr. Bunnett said ‘e ought to be locked up.’

“‘He’s been led away,’ ses Bob Pretty, shaking his ’ead.  ’He’s a kind-’arted old gen’leman when ’e’s left alone, and he’ll soon see wot a mistake ’e’s made about me.  I’ll show ’im.  But I wish it was something more useful than a gold watch.’

“‘You ain’t got it yet,’ ses Bill Chambers.

“‘No, mate,’ ses Bob.

“‘And you stand to lose a sight o’ money,’ ses Sam Jones.  ’If you like, Bob Pretty, you can ‘ave your bet back with me.’