They were all rather tired of the cab by this time, and, going over Waterloo Bridge, Ginger began to feel uncommon thirsty, and, leaning out of the winder, he told the cabman to pull up for a drink. He was so long about it that Ginger began to think he was bearing malice, but just as he was going to tell ’im agin, the cab pulled up in a quiet little street opposite a small pub. Ginger Dick and Peter went in and ’ad something and brought one out for Sam. They ’ad another arter that, and Ginger, getting ’is good temper back agin, asked the cabman to ’ave one. “Look lively about it, Ginger,” ses Sam, very sharp. “You forget ’ow ill I am.” Ginger said they wouldn’t be two seconds, and, the cabman calling a boy to mind his ’orse, they went inside. It was a quiet little place, but very cosey, and Sam, peeping out of the winder, could see all three of ’em leaning against the bar and making themselves comfortable. Twice he made the boy go in to hurry them up, and all the notice they took was to go on at the boy for leaving the horse. Pore old Sam sat there hugging ’imself in the bed-clo’es, and getting wilder and wilder. He couldn’t get out of the cab, and ’e couldn’t call to them for fear of people coming up and staring at ’im. Ginger, smiling all over with ’appiness, had got a big cigar on and was pretending to pinch the barmaid’s flowers, and Peter and the cabman was talking to some other chaps there. The only change Sam ’ad was when the boy walked the ’orse up and down the road. He sat there for an hour and then ’e sent the boy in agin. This time the cabman lost ’is temper, and, arter chasing the boy up the road, gave a young feller twopence to take ’is place and promised ’im another twopence when he came out. Sam tried to get a word with ’im as ’e passed, but he wouldn’t listen, and it was pretty near ’arf an hour later afore they all came out, talking and laughing. “Now for the ’orsepittle,” ses Ginger, opening the door. “Come on, Peter; don’t keep pore old Sam waiting all night.” “’Arf a tic,” ses the cabman, “’arf a tic; there’s five shillings for waiting, fust.” “_Wot_?” ses Ginger, staring at ’im. “Arter giving you all them drinks?” “Five shillings,” ses the cabman; “two hours’ waiting at half a crown an hour. That’s the proper charge.” Ginger thought ’e was joking at fust, and when he found ’e wasn’t he called ’im all the names he could think of, while Peter Russet stood by smiling and trying to think where ’e was and wot it was all about. “Pay ’im the five bob, Ginger, and ’ave done with it,” ses pore Sam, at last. “I shall never get to the horsepittle at this rate.” “Cert’inly not,” ses Ginger, “not if we stay ’ere all night.” “Pay ’im the five bob,” ses Sam, raising ’is voice; “it’s my money.” “You keep quiet,” ses Ginger, “and speak when your spoke to. Get inside, Peter.”