"Nice chap he is to talk of changing a name for money being disgraceful!" said Bayliss, when the other was out of hearing. "He was as near as ninepence to doing time over them canvas and bolts at the East India. Look at him now, going to the William as if he had money! _He_ isn't the man that could stand here if he had a penny in his rags." The speaker jingled some coins in his own pocket to show how he, being a man of intellectual resources and strong will, could resist temptation before which common clay, such as Red Jim was made of, must succumb. Red Jim did not enter the William. As he reached the door he stopped and looked along the road. A man coming from the western end drew up in front of him and said: "Is that Welford Bridge?" pointing to where the group of loungers stood, with the upper portions of their bodies illumined by the western glow against the darkening eastern sky. "Yes," said Jim sullenly, "that's Welford Bridge." "Do you know where Crawford's Bay is, here on the South London Canal? Is that the canal bridge?" "I know where Crawford's Bay is right enough," said the other doggedly. He was not disposed to volunteer any information. "Do you want to go to Crawford's Bay? If you do, I can show you the way. I'm out of work, gov'nor, and stone broke." "Very good. Come along and show me Crawford's House. I'll pay you for your trouble." Red Jim led the way back to the bridge. "Who has he picked up?" asked Bayliss jealously, as the two men passed the group. None of the loungers answered. "He's turning down Crawford Street," said Bayliss, when the two men had gone a hundred yards beyond the bridge. "So he is," said another. Bayliss was the most ready of speech, and monopolised the conversation. His mates regarded him as one rarely gifted in the matter of language; as one who would, without doubt, have made an orator if ambition had led the way. "I wonder what Red Jim is bringing that man down Crawford Street for? No good, I'm sure." "Seems a stranger," suggested the other man. "Maybe he wants Jim to show him the way." "Ay," said Bayliss in a discontented tone. "There's a great deal to be seen down Crawford Street! Lovely views; plenty of rotting doors. Now, if they only got in on the wharf, Jim could show him the old empty ice-house there. Do you know, if any one was missing hereabouts, and a good reward was offered, I'd get the drags and have a try in the ice-house. There's ten feet of water in it if there's an inch, so I'm told." "It is a lonesome place. I wonder they don't pump the water out." "Pump it out, you fool! How could they? Why, 'twould fill as fast as any dozen fire-engines could pump it out. The water from the canal soaks into it as if the wall was a sieve."