"I expected that," said Miriam, slipping her hand in her pocket. "Jabez, can't you stop drinking even when your life is in danger?" "Oh, hold your tongue, and don't begin preaching now. How much have you got here?" he said, weighing her purse. "Twenty pounds--a ten-pound note and gold. It is every farthing I have." Mother Mandarin's ears caught the clink of the gold, and she crawled towards them. "Lovey, dovey, give aunty the blunt; she wants 'eaps of it--'eaps of it!" Jabez took the money from the purse and put it in his pocket. As the woman clamoured on he swore at her. She yelled at him and threatened. With an oath he picked her up and pitched her like a bale of goods on to an unoccupied mattress. "Get outside, Miriam," he said, "sharp; I'll follow." Only too anxious to escape from the repulsive scene Miriam hurried down the stairs. Jabez quickly followed, banging the door with such force as to shake the crazy house. Then bolt upright sat Shorty with a twinkle in his eye. "So that's it, is it?" he mumbled. "Murder, eh? S'elp me, I'll get some dibs out o' this, or my bloomin' name ain't Shorty!" CHAPTER XII. JABEZ SEEKS AN OLD FRIEND. With the best part of fifty pounds in his pocket, Jabez Crane took counsel with himself as to which portion of the civilised or uncivilised world he should next honour with his presence. That there was all-round prejudice against his remaining in London seemed, from what his sister had said, tolerably certain. And, in truth, he confessed to himself that even Lambeth had its limitations as a place of residence. And so, on the following morning, he set out for the office of the Beaver line of steamers, which, as is well known, ply between the ports of Liverpool and Montreal, with the intention of booking a steerage passage in the next boat leaving for that port, and with a vague notion of gradually making his way thence into the heart of the gold-bearing country, about which the more fabulous tales had percolated recently, even to the remote habitation of Mother Mandarin. His berth secured, Jabez turned his steps towards the Strand, He had not walked far when the thought struck him that he was in a position to afford a penny 'bus. Putting his thought into action he mounted one. At the bottom of Fleet Street he saw something that caused him considerable surprise. There, sitting inside the same omnibus, reflected in a more than usually shiny plate-glass window, was the familiar form of Shorty. Shorty too, then, had been able to afford a penny ride! Strange! It was the second time he had come upon him unexpectedly that morning. At Temple Bar, where he alighted, there was no longer doubt in Jabez' mind. Shorty was following him--had been following him ever since he left Lambeth. Turning suddenly on his heel he made straight for the youth, and seized him by the collar. "'Ere," whined the quondam Gideon Anab, struggling to get free, "lemme go, carn't yer; I'll kick yer shins to bits if yer don't.