They crowded round the still figure, and commenced a quick search of Jim’s pockets. The bandaged man--not without some wrangling--was allowed to retain Mortimer’s watch and chain; the hunchback greedily possessed himself of the coins he extracted from Jim’s pockets--two half-sovereigns, some silver, and a few coppers; another of the gang annexed Jim’s cuff-links and studs. The other four savagely demanded that the money, at least, should be divided up amongst them, and were assured that they would get their share. They received this promise with remarks that indicated that there was little honour among these thieves, and it looked as if a struggle for the booty were about to ensue, when the hunchback made a discovery which rendered the other finds insignificant in comparison. "’Ere’s a cheque." So saying, he struck a match with feverish haste. "’_Undred pounds_! My Sam! This is a bit o’ luck. ’E didn’t get this out o’ Mount Street, I’ll wager." "Let’s ’ave a squint at it," said the bandaged man. "Ay," he continued, after examining the pink and white slip, "this is a bit of orl right. ’Undred quid! That’ll be nearly fifteen quid apiece." "A bit o’ paper like that ain’t no good to us," growled one of the gang; "’ow can we change it? ’Ooever tries to will be nabbed." The hunchback interposed. "Don’t you make no mistake, Jerry. We can change it. Gentleman ’Arry ’ll do it. ’E can get up just like a toff--he wasn’t a valit six years for nuthink. It ain’t crossed, and so ’e can get cash over the counter. ’E’s told me that when ’e was in service ’e often changed cheques for the nobs wot employed ’im." Thereupon the bandaged man arranged with the hunchback that "Gentleman ’Arry" was to be approached on the subject that night, and promised five pounds if he changed the cheque first thing in the morning. "There ain’t nuthink else on ’im, is there?" inquired the bandaged man, when this matter had been settled. The hunchback went all through Jim’s pockets again, but his search only yielded some keys, a pocket-handkerchief, and a few letters. "No, nuthink else, mates." "Then we’ll clear." As they all rose to their feet, the flower-seller again confronted the leader. "’Ow about me?" she demanded. "Didn’t I get ’im in ’ere? ’E’d ’ave cottoned something was wrong if ’e ’adn’t been answered by a woman." The Hooligans grinned at each other. The bandaged man had arranged this matter with the girl; it was no business of the others. "Oh, you shall ’ave a new ’at, Sally," the bandaged man assured her, with a leer. "Wot else?" "Anyfink yer like, Sally. But I thought you did it out o’ friendship for me, because I was so kind to your ’usband before they nabbed ’im," added the Hooligan, with an unpleasant grimace. "I’ll see I get my share," said the girl, showing her white teeth. "Wot! Would you take the kind doctor’s ’ard-earned welf? ’Im wot was so good to yore byby! For shame, Sally!"