“Arter all, a man can’t ’elp winning a prize,” ses Bill Chambers, looking round.

“I couldn’t,” ses Bob.

He sat down and ‘elped hisself out o’ Sam Jones’s baccy-box; and one or two got up on the quiet and went outside to listen to wot was going on down the road.  Everybody was wondering wot was happening, and when Bob Pretty got up and said ’e must be going, Bill Chambers caught ’old of him by the coat and asked ’im to have arf a pint with ’im.

Bob had the arf-pint, and arter that another one with Sam Jones, and then ’e said ’e really must be going, as his wife was expecting ’im.  He pushed Bill Chambers’s ’at over his eyes—­a thing Bill can’t abear—­and arter filling ’is pipe agin from Sam Jones’s box he got up and went.

“Mind you,” ses Bill Chambers, looking round, “if ’e comes back and ses somebody ’as taken his hamper, nobody knows nothing about it.”

“I ’ope Henery Walker ’as got it all right,” ses Dicky Weed.  “When shall we know?”

“He’ll come up ’ere and tell us,” ses Bill Chambers.  “It’s time ’e was here, a’most.”

Five minutes arterwards the door opened and Henery Walker came staggering in.  He was as white as a sheet, his ’at was knocked on one side of his ’ead, and there was two or three nasty-looking scratches on ’is cheek.  He came straight to Bill Chambers’s mug—­wot ’ad just been filled—­and emptied it, and then ’e sat down on a seat gasping for breath.

[Illustration:  “The door opened and Henery Walker came staggering in.”]

“Wots the matter, Henery?” ses Bill, staring at ’im with ’is mouth open.

Henery Walker groaned and shook his ’ead.  “Didn’t you get the hamper?” ses Bill, turning pale.  Henery Walker shook his ’ead agin.

“Shut up!” he ses, as Bill Chambers started finding fault.  “I done the best I could.  Nothing could ha’ ’appened better—­to start with.  Directly Ted Brown and Joe Smith started, Mrs. Pretty and her sister, and all the kids excepting the baby, run out, and they’d ’ardly gone afore I was inside the back door and looking for that hamper, and I’d hardly started afore I heard them coming back agin.  I was at the foot o’ the stairs at the time, and, not knowing wot to do, I went up ’em into Bob’s bedroom.”

“Well?” ses Bill Chambers, as Henery Walker stopped and looked round.

“A’most direckly arterwards I ’eard Mrs. Pretty and her sister coming upstairs,” ses Henery Walker, with a shudder.  “I was under the bed at the time, and afore I could say a word Mrs. Pretty gave a loud screech and scratched my face something cruel.  I thought she’d gone mad.”

“You’ve made a nice mess of it!” ses Bill Chambers.

“Mess!” ses Henery, firing up.  “Wot would you ha’ done?”

“I should ha’ managed diff’rent,” ses Bill Chambers.  “Did she know who you was?”

“Know who I was?” ses Henery.  “O’ course she did.  It’s my belief that Bob knew all about it and told ’er wot to do.”