"O' course they must," ses Henery, "and if you're so anxious why don't you 'ave fust try?" Bob Pretty tried to laugh it off, but they wouldn't 'ave it, and at last he takes out a pocket-'andkerchief and offers it to Smith, the landlord. "All right, I'll go fust if you'll blindfold me," he ses. "There ain't no need for that, Bob," ses Mr. Smith. "You can't see in the bag, and even if you could it wouldn't help you." "Never mind; you blindfold me," ses Bob; "it'll set a good example to the others." Smith did it at last, and when Bob Pretty put his 'and in the bag and pulled out a paper you might ha' heard a pin drop. "Open it and see what number it is, Mr. Smith," ses Bob Pretty. "Twenty- three, I expect; I never 'ave no luck." Smith rolled out the paper, and then 'e turned pale and 'is eyes seemed to stick right out of his 'ead. "He's won it!" he ses, in a choky voice. "It's Number I. Bob Pretty 'as won the prize." [Illustration: "He's won it!" he ses, in a choky voice. "It's Number I."] You never 'eard such a noise in this 'ere public-'ouse afore or since; everybody shouting their 'ardest, and Bill Chambers stamping up and down the room as if he'd gone right out of his mind. "Silence!" ses Mr. Smith, at last. "Silence! How dare you make that noise in my 'ouse, giving it a bad name? Bob Pretty 'as won it fair and square. Nothing could ha' been fairer. You ought to be ashamed o' yourselves." Bob Pretty wouldn't believe it at fust. He said that Smith was making game of 'im, and, when Smith held the paper under 'is nose, he kept the handkerchief on his eyes and wouldn't look at it. "I've seen you afore to-day," he says, nodding his 'ead. "I like a joke as well as anybody, but it ain't fair to try and make fun of a pore, 'ard-working man like that." I never see a man so astonished in my life as Bob Pretty was, when 'e found out it was really true. He seemed fair 'mazed-like, and stood there scratching his 'ead, as if he didn't know where 'e was. He come round at last, arter a pint o' beer that Smith 'ad stood 'im, and then he made a little speech, thanking Smith for the fair way he 'ad acted, and took up the hamper. "'Strewth, it is heavy," he ses, getting it up on his back. "Well, so long, mates." "Ain't you--ain't you going to stand us a drink out o' one o' them bottles?" ses Peter Gubbins, as Bob got to the door. Bob Pretty went out as if he didn't 'ear; then he stopped, sudden-like, and turned round and put his 'ead in at the door agin, and stood looking at 'em. "No, mates," he ses, at last, "and I wonder at you for asking, arter what you've all said about me. I'm a pore man, but I've got my feelings. I drawed fust becos nobody else would, and all the thanks I get for it is to be called a thief."