“Lost, between—the Mint and—Tower Stairs,” he ses, leaning forward and reading very slow, “a gold—locket—set with—diamonds. Whoever will—return—the same to—Mr. Smith—Orange Villa—Barnet—will receive—thirty pounds—reward.” “’Ow much?” ses Sam, starting. “Thirty pounds,” ses the man. “Must be a good locket. Where’d you get that?” he ses, turning to the barmaid. “Gentleman came in an hour ago,” ses the gal, “and, arter he had ’ad two or three drinks with the guv’nor, he asks ’im to stick it up. ’Arf crying he was—said ’it ’ad belonged to his old woman wot died.” She went off to serve a customer at the other end of the bar wot was making little dents in it with his pot, and the man came back and sat down by Sam agin, and began to talk about horse-racing. At least, he tried to, but Sam couldn’t talk of nothing but that locket, and wot a nice steady sailorman could do with thirty pounds. “Well, p’r’aps you’ll find it,” ses the man, chaffing-like. “’Ave another pint.” Sam had one, but it only made ’im more solemn, and he got in quite a temper as ’e spoke about casuals loafing about on Tower Hill with their ’ands in their pockets, and taking gold lockets out of the mouths of hard-working sailormen. “It mightn’t be found yet,” ses the man, speaking thoughtful-like. “It’s wonderful how long a thing’ll lay sometimes. Wot about going and ’aving a look for it?” Sam shook his ’ead at fust, but arter turning the thing over in his mind, and ’aving another look at the bill, and copying down the name and address for luck, ’e said p’r’aps they might as well walk that way as anywhere else. “Something seems to tell me we’ve got a chance,” ses the man, as they stepped outside. “It’s a funny feeling and I can’t explain it, but it always means good luck. Last time I had it an aunt o’ mine swallered ’er false teeth and left me five ’undred pounds.” “There’s aunts and aunts,” ses Sam, grunting. “I ’ad one once, but if she had swallered ’er teeth she’d ha’ been round to me to help ’er buy some new ones. That’s the sort she was.” “Mind!” ses the man, patting ’im on the shoulder, “if we do find this, I don’t want any of it. I’ve got all I want. It’s all for you.” They went on like a couple o’ brothers arter that, especially Sam, and when they got to the Mint they walked along slow down Tower Hill looking for the locket. It was awkward work, because, if people saw them looking about, they’d ’ave started looking too, and twice Sam nearly fell over owing to walking like a man with a stiff neck and squinting down both sides of his nose at once. When they got as far as the Stairs they came back on the other side of the road, and they ’ad turned to go back agin when a docker-looking chap stopped Sam’s friend and spoke to ’im. “I’ve got no change, my man,” ses Sam’s pal, pushing past him. “I ain’t begging, guv’nor,” ses the chap, follering ’im up. “I’m trying to sell something.” “Wot is it?” ses the other, stopping.