“’Cos I didn’t know ’im so well then,” ses Bill Jones.

“You soon change your mind, don’t you?” ses Peter.

Bill didn’t answer ’im.  He was leaning back on the bench and staring at the bottle as if ’e couldn’t believe his eyesight.  His face was all white and shining, and ’is hair as wet as if it ’ad just been dipped in a bucket o’ water.

“See a ghost, Bill?” ses Peter, looking at ’im.

Bill made a ’orrible noise in his throat, and kept on staring at the bottle till they thought ’e’d gone crazy.  Then Jasper Potts bent his ’ead down and began to read out loud wot was on the bottle.  “P-o-i—­ poison for Bill Jones,” he ses, in a voice as if ’e couldn’t believe it.

You might ’ave heard a pin drop.  Everybody turned and looked at Bill Jones, as he sat there trembling all over.  Then those that could read took up the bottle and read it out loud all over agin.

“Pore Bill,” ses Peter Lamb.  “I ’ad a feeling come over me that something was wrong.”

“You’re a murderer,” ses Sam Martin, catching ’old of Joe Barlcomb.  “You’ll be ’ung for this.  Look at pore Bill, cut off in ’is prime.”

“Run for the doctor,” ses someone.

Two of ’em ran off as ’ard as they could go, and then the landlord came round the bar and asked Bill to go and die outside, because ’e didn’t want to be brought into it.  Jasper Potts told ’im to clear off, and then he bent down and asked Bill where the pain was.

“I don’t think he’ll ’ave much pain,” ses Peter Lamb, who always pretended to know a lot more than other people.  “It’ll soon be over, Bill.”

“We’ve all got to go some day,” ses Sam Martin.  “Better to die young than live to be a trouble to yourself,” ses Bob Harris.

To ’ear them talk everybody seemed to think that Bill Jones was in luck; everybody but Bill Jones ’imself, that is.

“I ain’t fit to die,” he ses, shivering.  “You don’t know ’ow bad I’ve been.”

“Wot ’ave you done, Bill?” ses Peter Lamb, in a soft voice.  “If it’ll ease your feelings afore you go to make a clean breast of it, we’re all friends here.”

Bill groaned.

“And it’s too late for you to be punished for anything,” ses Peter, arter a moment.

Bill Jones groaned agin, and then, shaking ’is ’ead, began to w’isper ’is wrong-doings.  When the doctor came in ’arf an hour arterward all the men was as quiet as mice, and pore Bill was still w’ispering as ’ard as he could w’isper.

The doctor pushed ’em out of the way in a moment, and then ’e bent over Bill and felt ’is pulse and looked at ’is tongue.  Then he listened to his ’art, and in a puzzled way smelt at the bottle, which Jasper Potts was a-minding of, and wetted ’is finger and tasted it.

[Illustration:  “The doctor felt ’is pulse and looked at ’is tongue.”]

“Somebody’s been making a fool of you and me too,” he ses, in a angry voice.  “It’s only gin, and very good gin at that.  Get up and go home.”