Not until he heard his wife moving about in the kitchen below did he relax the severity of his countenance. Then his expression changed to one of extreme anxiety, and he restlessly paced the room seeking for light. It came suddenly. “Jenkins,” he gasped, “Jenkins and Mrs. Cluffins, and I was going to tell Cluffins about him writing to his wife. I expect he knows the letter by heart.” MONEY CHANGERS “’Tain’t no use waiting any longer,” said Harry Pilchard, looking over the side of the brig towards the Tower stairs. “’E’s either waiting for the money or else ’e’s a-spending of it. Who’s coming ashore?” “Give ’im another five minutes, Harry,” said another seaman persuasively; “it ’ud be uncommon ’ard on ’im if ’e come aboard and then ’ad to go an’ get another ship’s crew to ’elp ’im celebrate it.” “’Ard on us too,” said the cook honestly. “There he is!” The other glanced up at a figure waving to them from the stairs. “’E wants the boat,” he said, moving aft. “No ’e don’t, Steve,” piped the boy. “’E’s waving you not to. He’s coming in the waterman’s skiff.” “Ha! same old tale,” said the seaman wisely. “Chap comes in for a bit o’ money and begins to waste it directly. There’s threepence gone; clean chucked away. Look at ’im. Just look at him!” “’E’s got the money all right,” said the cook, “there’s no doubt about that. Why, ’e looks ’arf as large again as ’e did this morning.” The crew bent over the side as the skiff approached, and the fare, who had been leaning back in the stern with a severely important air, rose slowly and felt in his trousers-pocket. “There’s sixpence for you, my lad,” he said pompously. “Never mind about the change.” “All right, old slack-breeches,” said the waterman with effusive good-fellowship: “up you get.” Three pairs of hands assisted the offended fare on board, and the boy hovering round him slapped his legs vigorously. “Wot are you up to?” demanded Mr. Samuel Dodds, A.B., turning on him. “Only dusting you down, Sam,” said the boy humbly. “You got the money all right, I s’pose, Sammy?” said Steve Martin. Mr. Dodds nodded and slapped his breastpocket. “Right as ninepence,” he replied genially. “I’ve been with my lawyer all the arternoon, pretty near. ’E’s a nice feller.” “’Ow much is it, Sam?” inquired Pilchard eagerly. “One ’undred and seventy-three pun seventeen shillings an’ ten _pence_,” said the heir, noticing with much pleasure the effect of his announcement. “Say it agin, Sam,” said Pilchard in awed tones. Mr. Dodds, with a happy laugh, obliged him. “If you’ll all come down the foc’sle,” he continued, “I’ve got a bundle o’ cigars an’ a drop o’ something short in my pocket.” “Let’s ’ave a look at the money, Sam,” said Pilchard when the cigars were alight. “Ah, let’s ’ave a look at it,” said Steve.