“Well, I met him; and he told me. It was the old story: a gal was at the bottom of it. He had broken into a small house at Hampstead. He was on the floor, packing up the silver, when the door opens, and he sees a gal standing there. She held a candle in one hand and a revolver in the other. [Illustration: 0079] “'Put your hands up above your head,' says she. “'I looked at the revolver,' said Joe, telling me; 'it was about eighteen inches off my nose; and then I looked at the gal. There's lots of 'em will threaten to blow your brains out for you, but you've only got to look at 'em to know they won't. “'They are thinking of the coroner's inquest, and wondering how the judge will sum up. She met my eyes, and I held up my hands. If I hadn't I wouldn't have been here. “'Now you go in front,' says she to Joe, and he went. She laid her candle down in the hall and unbolted the front door. “'What are you going to do?' says Joe, 'call the police? Because if so, my dear, I'll take my chance of that revolver being loaded and of your pulling the trigger in time. It will be a more dignified ending.' “'No,' says she, 'I had a brother that got seven years for forgery. I don't want to think of another face like his when he came out. I'm going to see you outside my master's house, and that's all I care about.' “She went down the garden-path with him, and opened the gate. “'You turn round,' says she, 'before you reach the bottom of the lane and I give the alarm.' And Joe went straight, and didn't look behind him. “Well, it was a rum beginning to a courtship, but the end was rummer. The girl was willing to marry him if he would turn honest. Joe wanted to turn honest, but didn't know how. “'It's no use fixing me down, my dear, to any quiet, respectable calling,' says Joe to the gal, 'because, even if the police would let me alone, I wouldn't be able to stop there. I'd break out, sooner or later, try as I might.' “The girl went to her master, who seems to have been an odd sort of a cove, and told him the whole story. The old gent said he'd see Joe, and Joe called on him. “'What's your religion?' says the old gent to Joe. “'I'm not particular, sir; I'll leave it to you,' says Joe. “'Good!' says the old gent. 'You're no fanatic. What are your principles?' “At first Joe didn't think he'd got any, but, the old gent leading, he found to his surprise as he had. “'I believe,' says Joe, 'in doing a job thoroughly.' “'What your hand finds to do, you believe in doing with all your might, eh?' says the old gent. “'That's it, sir,' says Joe. 'That's what I've always tried to do.' “'Anything else?' asks the old gent. “'Yes; stick to your pals,' said Joe. “'Through thick and thin,' suggests the old gent. “'To the blooming end,' agrees Joe. “'That's right,' says the old gent. 'Faithful unto death. And you really want to turn over a new leaf--to put your wits and your energy and your courage to good use instead of bad?' “'That's the idea,' says Joe.