“It’s that landlord,” ses Ginger; “there’s straw down in the road outside, and they say that he’s dying.  Pore old Bill don’t know ’is own strength.  The best thing you can do, old pal, is to go as far away as you can, at once.”

“I shouldn’t wait a minnit if it was me,” ses old Sam.

Bill groaned and hid ’is face in his ’ands, and then Peter Russet went and spoilt things by saying that the safest place for a murderer to ’ide in was London.  Bill gave a dreadful groan when ’e said murderer, but ’e up and agreed with Peter, and all Sam and Ginger Dick could do wouldn’t make ’im alter his mind.  He said that he would shave off ’is beard and moustache, and when night came ’e would creep out and take a lodging somewhere right the other end of London.

“It’ll soon be dark,” ses Ginger, “and your own brother wouldn’t know you now, Bill.  Where d’you think of going?”

Bill shook his ’ead.  “Nobody must know that, mate,” he ses.  “I must go into hiding for as long as I can—­as long as my money lasts; I’ve only got six pounds left.”

“That’ll last a long time if you’re careful,” ses Ginger.

“I want a lot more,” ses Bill.  “I want you to take this silver ring as a keepsake, Ginger.  If I ’ad another six pounds or so I should feel much safer.  ’Ow much ’ave you got, Ginger?”

“Not much,” ses Ginger, shaking his ’ead.

“Lend it to me, mate,” ses Bill, stretching out his ’and.  “You can easy get another ship.  Ah, I wish I was you; I’d be as ’appy as ’appy if I hadn’t got a penny.”

“I’m very sorry, Bill,” ses Ginger, trying to smile, “but I’ve already promised to lend it to a man wot we met this evening.  A promise is a promise, else I’d lend it to you with pleasure.”

“Would you let me be ’ung for the sake of a few pounds, Ginger?” ses Bill, looking at ’im reproach-fully.  “I’m a desprit man, Ginger, and I must ’ave that money.”

Afore pore Ginger could move he suddenly clapped ’is hand over ’is mouth and flung ’im on the bed.  Ginger was like a child in ’is hands, although he struggled like a madman, and in five minutes ’e was laying there with a towel tied round his mouth and ’is arms and legs tied up with the cord off of Sam’s chest.

“I’m very sorry, Ginger,” ses Bill, as ’e took a little over eight pounds out of Ginger’s pocket.  “I’ll pay you back one o’ these days, if I can.  If you’d got a rope round your neck same as I ’ave you’d do the same as I’ve done.”

He lifted up the bedclothes and put Ginger inside and tucked ’im up.  Ginger’s face was red with passion and ’is eyes starting out of his ’ead.

“Eight and six is fifteen,” ses Bill, and just then he ’eard somebody coming up the stairs.  Ginger ’eard it, too, and as Peter Russet came into the room ’e tried all ’e could to attract ’is attention by rolling ’is ’ead from side to side.

“Why, ’as Ginger gone to bed?” ses Peter.  “Wot’s up, Ginger?”