I got to ’ate the sight of ’im.  Every week regular as clockwork he used to come round to me with his ’and out, and then go and treat ’is mates to beer with my money.  If the ship came up in the day-time, at six o’clock in the evening he’d be at the wharf gate waiting for me; and if it came up at night she was no sooner made fast than ’e was over the side patting my trouser-pocket and saying wot a good job it was for both of us that I was in steady employment.

Week arter week and month arter month I went on paying.  I a’most forgot the taste o’ beer, and if I could manage to get a screw o’ baccy a week I thought myself lucky.  And at last, just as I thought I couldn’t stand it any longer, the end came.

I ’ad just given George ’is week’s money—­and ’ow I got it together that week I don’t know—­when one o’ the chaps came up and said the skipper wanted to see me on board at once.

“Tell ’im if he wants to see me I’m to be found on the wharf,” I ses, very sharp.

“He wants to see you about George’s money,” ses the chap.  “I should go if I was you.  My opinion is he wants to do you a good turn.”

I ’ung fire for a bit, and then, arter sweeping up for a little while deliberate-like, I put down my broom and stepped aboard to see the skipper, wot was sitting on the cabin skylight purtending to read a newspaper.

He put it down when ’e see me, and George and the others, wot ’ad been standing in a little bunch for’ard, came aft and stood looking on.

“I wanted to see you about this money, watchman,” ses the skipper, putting on ‘is beastly frills agin.  “O’ course, we all feel that to a pore man like you it’s a bit of a strain, and, as George ses, arter all you have been more foolish than wicked.”

“Much more,” ses George.

“I find that you ’ave now paid five bob a week for nineteen weeks,” ses the skipper, “and George ’as been kind enough and generous enough to let you off the rest.  There’s no need for you to look bashful, George; it’s a credit to you.”

I could ’ardly believe my ears.  George stood there grinning like a stuck fool, and two o’ the chaps was on their best behaviour with their ’ands over their mouths and their eyes sticking out.

“That’s all, watchman,” ses the skipper; “and I ’ope it’ll be a lesson to you not to neglect your dooty by going into public-’ouses and taking charge of other people’s money when you ain’t fit for it.”

“I sha’n’t try to do anybody else a kindness agin, if that’s wot you mean,” I ses, looking at ’im.

“No, you’d better not,” he ses.  “This partickler bit o’ kindness ’as cost you four pounds fifteen, and that’s a curious thing when you come to think of it.  Very curious.”

“Wot d’ye mean?” I ses.

“Why,” he ses, grinning like a madman, “it’s just wot we lost between us.  I lost a watch and chain worth two pounds, and another couple o’ pounds besides; Joe lost ten shillings over ’is di’mond ring; and Charlie lost five bob over a pipe.  ’That’s four pounds fifteen—­just the same as you.”