“I didn’t take ’im at fast, but when I did I gave a laugh that brought in two more customers to see wot was the matter.  Then I took ’im by the arm—­arter a little trouble—­and, taking ’im back to the wharf, explained my meaning to ’im.

“‘I know the very man,’ I ses.  ’He comes into a public-’ouse down my way sometimes.  Artful ’Arry, he’s called, and, for ’arf-a-quid, say, he’d frighten Uncle Dick ’arf to death.  He’s big and ugly, and picks up a living by selling meerschaum pipes he’s found to small men wot don’t want ‘em.  Wonderful gift o’ the gab he’s got.’

“We went acrost to the ‘Albion’ to talk it over.  There’s several bars there, and the landlady always keeps cotton-wool in ’er ears, not ’aving been brought up to the public line.  The skipper told me all ’e knew about Mrs. Muffit, and we arranged that Artful ’Arry should come down at seven o’clock next night, if so be as I could find ’im in time.

“I got up early the next arternoon, and as it ’appened, he came into the ‘Duke of Edinburgh’ five minutes arter I got there.  Nasty temper ’e was in, too.  He’d just found a meerschaum pipe, as usual, and the very fust man ’e tried to sell it to said that it was the one ’e lost last Christmas, and gave ’im a punch in the jaw for it.

“‘He’s a thief, that’s wot he is,’ ses ’Arry; ’and I ’ate thiefs.  ’Ow’s a honest tradesman to make a living when there’s people like that about?’

“I stood ’im ’arf a pint, and though it hurt ’im awful to drink it, he said ’ed ’ave another just to see if he could bear the pain.  Arter he had ’ad three ‘e began for to take a more cheerful view o’ life, and told me about a chap that spent three weeks in the London ’Orsepittle for calling ’im a liar.

“‘Treat me fair,’ he ses, ’and I’ll treat other people fair.  I never broke my word without a good reason for it, and that’s more than everybody can say.  If I told you the praise I’ve ’ad from some people you wouldn’t believe it.’

“I let ’im go on till he ’ad talked ’imself into a good temper, and then I told ’im of the little job I ’ad got for ’im.  He listened quiet till I ’ad finished, and then he shook ’is ’ead.

“‘It ain’t in my line,’ he ses.

“’There’s ’arf a quid ‘anging to it,’ I ses.

“’Arry shook his ’ead agin.  ‘Tain’t enough, mate,’ he ses.  ’If you was to make it a quid I won’t say as I mightn’t think of it.’

“I ’ad told the skipper that it might cost ’im a quid, so I knew ’ow far I could go; and at last, arter ’Arry ’ad got as far as the door three times, I gave way.

“’And I’ll ‘ave it now,’ he ses, ‘to prevent mistakes.’

“’No, ‘Arry,’ I ses, very firm.  ‘Besides, it ain’t my money, you see.’

“‘You mean to say you don’t trust me,’ ’e ses, firing up.

“‘I’d trust you with untold gold,’ I ses, ’but not with a real quid; you’re too fond of a joke, ‘Arry.’

“We ’ad another long argyment about it, and I had to tell ’im plain at last that when I wanted to smell ’is fist, I’d say so.