Peter, wot was standing by blinking and smiling, misunderstood ’im, and went back inside the pub. Ginger went arter ’im to fetch ’im back, and hearing a noise turned round and saw the cabman pulling Sam out o’ the cab. He was just in time to shove ’im back agin, and for the next two or three minutes ’im and the cabman was ’ard at it. Sam was too busy holding ’is clothes on to do much, and twice the cabman got ’im ’arf out, and twice Ginger got him back agin and bumped ’im back in ’is seat and shut the door. Then they both stopped and took breath. “We’ll see which gets tired fust,” ses Ginger. “Hold the door inside, Sam.” The cabman looked at ’im, and then ’e climbed up on to ’is seat and, just as Ginger ran back for Peter Russet, drove off at full speed. Pore Sam leaned back in ’is seat panting and trying to wrap ’imself up better in the counterpane, which ’ad got torn in the struggle. They went through street arter street, and ’e was just thinking of a nice warm bed and a kind nurse listening to all ’is troubles when ’e found they was going over London Bridge. “You’ve passed it,” he ses, putting his ’ead out of the winder. The cabman took no notice, and afore Sam could think wot to make of it they was in the Whitechapel Road, and arter that, although Sam kept putting his ’ead out of the winder and asking ’im questions, they kept going through a lot o’ little back streets until ’e began to think the cabman ’ad lost ’is way. They stopped at last in a dark little road, in front of a brick wall, and then the cabman got down and opened a door and led his ’orse and cab into a yard. “Do you call this Guy’s Horsepittle?” ses Sam. “Hullo!” ses the cabman. “Why, I thought I put you out o’ my cab once.” “I’ll give you five minutes to drive me to the ’orsepittle,” ses Sam. “Arter that I shall go for the police.” “All right,” ses the cabman, taking his ’orse out and leading it into a stable. “Mind you don’t catch cold.” He lighted a lantern and began to look arter the ’orse, and pore Sam sat there getting colder and colder and wondering wot ’e was going to do. “I shall give you in charge for kidnapping me,” he calls out very loud. “Kidnapping?” ses the cabman. “Who do you think wants to kidnap you? The gate’s open, and you can go as soon as you like.” Sam climbed out of the cab, and holding up the counterpane walked across the yard in ’is bare feet to the stable. “Well, will you drive me ’ome?” he ses. “Cert’inly not,” ses the cabman; “I’m going ’ome myself now. It’s time you went, ’cos I’m going to lock up.” “’Ow can I go like this?” ses Sam, bursting with passion. “Ain’t you got any sense?” “Well, wot are you going to do?” ses the cabman, picking ’is teeth with a bit o’ straw. “Wot would you do if you was me?” ses Sam, calming down a bit and trying to speak civil. [Illustration: “‘All right,’ ses the cabman, taking his ’orse out and leading it into a stable. ‘Mind you don’t catch cold.’”]