Ginger tried to explain, but it was all no good, and two minutes arterwards ’e was walking back to ’is lodgings like a dog with its tail between its legs. His ’ead was going round and round with astonishment, and ’e was in such a temper that ’e barged into a man twice as big as himself and then offered to knock his ’ead off when ’e objected. And when Sam and Peter asked him ’ow he ’ad got on, he was in such a state of mind it was all ’e could do to answer ’em.
“And I’ll trouble you for my ’arf dollar, Peter,” he ses; “I’ve been out with ’er all day, and I’ve won my bet.”
Peter paid it over like a lamb, and then ’e sat thinking ’ard for a bit.
“Are you going out with ’er agin to-morrow, Ginger?” he ses, arter a time.
“I don’t know,” ses Ginger, careless-like, “I ain’t made up my mind yet.”
Peter looked at ’im and then ’e looked at Sam and winked. “Let me ’ave a try,” he ses; “I’ll bet you another ’arf dollar that I take ’er out. P’r’aps I shall come ’ome in a better temper than wot you ’ave.”
Old Sam said it wasn’t right to play with a gal’s ’art in that way, but arter a lot o’ talking and telling Sam to shut up, Ginger took the bet. He was quite certain in his own mind that Miss Gill would slam the door in Peter’s face, and arter he ’ad started off next morning, Ginger and Sam waited in to ’ave the pleasure of laughing in ’is face.
They got tired of waiting at last, and went out to enjoy themselves, and breathe the fresh air in a pub down Poplar way. They got back at seven o’clock, and ten minutes arterwards Peter came in and sat down on his bed and began to smoke without a word.
“Had a good time?” ses Ginger.
“Rippin’,” ses Peter, holding ’is pipe tight between ’is teeth. “You owe me ’arf a dollar, Ginger.”
“Where’d you go?” ses Ginger, passing it over.
“Crystal Pallis,” ses Peter.
“Are you going to take ’er out to-morrow?” ses Sam.
“I don’t think so,” ses Peter, taking ’is pipe out of ’is mouth and yawning. “She’s rather too young for me; I like talking to gals wot’s a bit older. I won’t stand in Ginger’s way.”
“I found ’er a bit young too,” ses Ginger. “P’r’aps we’d better let Sam’s nevy ’ave ’er. Arter all it’s a bit rough on ’im when you come to think of it.”
“You’re quite right,” ses Peter, jumping up. “It’s Sam’s business, and why we should go out of our way and inconvenience ourselves to do ’im a good turn, I don’t know.”
“It’s Sam all over,” ses Ginger; “he’s always been like that, and the more you try to oblige ’im, the more you may.”
They went on abusing Sam till he got sick and tired of it, and arter telling ’em wot he thought of ’em he slammed the door and went out and spent the evening by ’imself. He would ’ardly speak to them next day, but arter tea he brightened up a bit and they went off together as if nothing ’ad happened, and the fust thing they saw as they turned out of their street was Sam’s nevy coming along smiling till it made their faces ache to look at him.