England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Humorous stories, English; Sailors -- Fiction
He went off up the ’ill shaking his ’ead, and Sam’s pal, arter watching
him for a few seconds, said good-bye in a hurry and went off arter ’im
to tell him to keep ’is mouth shut about it.
Sam walked back to his lodgings on air, as the saying is, and even did
a little bit of a skirt-dance to a pianner-organ wot was playing. Peter
and Ginger was out, and so was his land-lady, a respectable woman as
was minding the rest of ’is money for him, and when he asked ’er little
gal, a kid of eleven, to trust ’im for some tin she gave ’im a lecture
on wasting his money instead wot took ’is breath away—all but a word or
two.
He got some of ’is money from his landlady at eight o’clock, arter
listening to ’er for ’arf an hour, and then he ’ad to pick it up off of
the floor, and say “Thank you” for it.
He went to bed afore Ginger and Peter came in, but ’e was so excited he
couldn’t sleep, and long arter they was in bed he laid there and
thought of all the different ways of spending a ’undred pounds. He kept
taking the locket from under ’is piller and feeling it; then he felt ’e
must ’ave another look at it, and arter coughing ’ard two or three
times and calling out to the other two not to snore—to see if they was
awake—he got out o’ bed and lit the candle. Ginger and Peter was both
fast asleep, with their eyes screwed up and their mouths wide open, and
’e sat on the bed and looked at the locket until he was a’most dazzled.
“’Ullo, Sam!” ses a voice. “Wot ’ave you got there?”
Sam nearly fell off the bed with surprise and temper. Then ’e hid the
locket in his ’and and blew out the candle.
“Who gave it to you?” ses Ginger.
“You get off to sleep, and mind your own bisness,” ses Sam, grinding
’is teeth.
He got back into bed agin and laid there listening to Ginger waking up
Peter. Peter woke up disagreeable, but when Ginger told ’im that Sam
’ad stole a gold locket as big as a saucer, covered with diamonds, he
altered ’is mind.
“Let’s ’ave a look at it,” he ses, sitting up.
“Ginger’s dreaming,” ses Sam, in a shaky voice. “I ain’t got no locket.
Wot d’you think I want a locket for?”
Ginger got out o’ bed and lit the candle agin. “Come on!” he ses,
“let’s ’ave a look at it. I wasn’t dreaming. I’ve been awake all the
time, watching you.”
Sam shut ’is eyes and turned his back to them.
“He’s gone to sleep, pore old chap,” ses Ginger. “We’ll ’ave a look at
it without waking ’im. You take that side, Peter! Mind you don’t
disturb ’im.”
He put his ’and in under the bed-clo’es and felt all up and down Sam’s
back, very careful. Sam stood it for ’arf a minute, and then ’e sat up
in bed and behaved more like a windmill than a man.
“Hold his ’ands,” ses Ginger.
“Hold ’em yourself,” ses Peter, dabbing ’is nose with his shirt-sleeve.
“Well, we’re going to see it,” ses Ginger, “if we have to make enough
noise to rouse the ’ouse. Fust of all we’re going to ask you perlite;
then we shall get louder and louder. Show us the locket wot you stole,
Sam!”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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