In the opinion of Cox's Piece, "lift" was not the word for the bearing of Ginger on the morrow at the mid-day gathering. It was pardonable, no doubt; Ginger was Ginger, a being apart. Twopenny Sturgess wouldn't half have had it dusted out of him. It wouldn't have been stood from Gogo, or Hogan, or Foxey Green, but with Ginger it was different. It was realized in a way that was almost sinister by the cognoscenti of Cox's Piece that if there was such a thing existing in the world, Ginger was really and truly It. Nevertheless, Pouncer Rogers was so unwise as to put into words the unspoken thought that was in every mind when he told Ginger bluntly to his face "that he'd believe it when he seed it." "Yer call me a liar," said Ginger, drawing himself up to his full height of five feet six inches with remarkable dignity. "I said I'd believe it when I seed it," said the heroic Pouncer. "Sailor here read the letter," said Ginger, underplaying from the sheer strength of his hand. "Didn't you, Sailor boy? _You_ read Dinkie Dawson's letter?" "Yep," said the miserable Sailor. "An' didn't he say a day's wages and railway fares both ways?" The answer of the Sailor was understood to be in the affirmative. "First class, o' course," said Pouncer, with a deliberate wink at Gogo and Twopenny. Ginger's hand was so full that he could afford to treat the observation on its merits. "_Third_ class, Pouncer. It was _third_, Sailor boy?" The appeal to Sailor boy had a superb touch of condescension. Pouncer would cheerfully have given a week's wages for the privilege of slaying Ginger. "Yep--third," muttered the miserable one. "Ginger Jukes," said the defiant Pouncer, "if you want my 'pinion, you don't know Dinkie Dawson at all. That's my 'pinion." "Your opinion was not _ast_, young Pouncer." Ginger's air was that of a Napoleon. "An' when anyone pleadin' well _asts_ it, Pouncer, you can give it. Perhaps you'll say that Sailor didn't read Dinkie's letter?" "So he says," sneered Pouncer. The Sailor winced, but the cognoscenti were much too busy to notice him. "You are never goin' to call _him_ a liar," said Ginger. "I call him nothing." "You had better not," said Ginger, who noticed that Pouncer was drawing in his horns a bit. "_I_ can afford to take your lip, young Pouncer Rogers. I'm used to it an' you are no class, anyway, but if you call the Sailor here a liar, he'll have to put it acrost you. Won't you, Sailor boy?" No reply from the Sailor. "I call him nothing," said Pouncer, coming back a bit at this rather unexpected silence on the part of the Sailor. "But I simply says he pleadin' well didn't read no pleadin' letter from Dinkie Dawson, that's all I simply says."