“Very likely thought it was doing you a kindness, Sam,” ses Ginger.

Mr. Goodman said it was very likely, afore Sam could speak, and arter walking about and looking at the other things they come out and ’ad a nice, strong, ‘ot cup o’ tea, same as they ’ad the day before, and then walked about, not knowing what to do with themselves.

Sam got tired of it fust, and catching Ginger’s eye said he thought it was time to get ’ome in case too much enjoyment wasn’t good for ’em.  His idea was to get off with Ginger and make a night of it, and when ’e found Peter and his uncle was coming too, he began to think that things was looking serious.

“I don’t want to spile your evening,” he says, very perlite.  “I must get ‘ome to mend a pair o’ trowsis o’ mine, but there’s no need for you to come.”

“I’ll come and watch you,” ses Peter’s uncle.

“And then I’m going off to bed early,” ses Sam.  “Me, too,” ses Ginger, and Peter said he could hardly keep ’is eyes open.

They got on a bus, and as Sam was about to foller Ginger and Peter on top, Mr. Goodman took hold of ’im by the arm and said they’d go inside.  He paid two penny fares, and while Sam was wondering ’ow to tell ’im that it would be threepence each, the bus stopped to take up a passenger and he got up and moved to the door.

“They’ve gone up there,” he ses, pointing.

Afore Sam could stop ‘im he got off, and Sam, full o’ surprise, got off too, and follered ‘im’ on to the pavement.

“Who’s gone up there?” he ses, as the bus went on agin.

“Peter and Mr. Ginger Dick,” ses Mr. Good-man.  “But don’t you trouble.  You go ’ome and mend your trowsis.”

“But they’re on the bus,” ses Sam, staring.  “Dick and Peter, I mean.”

Mr. Goodman shook his ’ead.

“They got off.  Didn’t you see ’em?” he ses.  “No,” ses Sam, “I’ll swear they didn’t.”

“Well, it’s my mistake, I s’pose,” ses Peter’s uncle.  “But you get off home; I’m not tired yet, and I’ll walk.”

Sam said ’e wasn’t very tired, and he walked along wondering whether Mr. Goodman was quite right in his ’ead.  For one thing, ’e seemed upset about something or other, and kept taking little peeps at ’im in a way he couldn’t understand at all.

“It was nice tea we ’ad this arternoon,” ses Mr. Goodman at last.

“De-licious,” ses Sam.

“Trust a teetotaller for knowing good tea,” ses Mr. Goodman.  “I expect Peter enjoyed it.  I s’pose ’e is a very strict teetotaller?”

“Strict ain’t the word for it,” ses Sam, trying to do ’is duty by Peter.  “We all are.”

“That’s right,” ses Mr. Goodman, and he pushed his ’at back and looked at Sam very serious.  They walked on a bit further, and then Peter’s uncle stopped sudden just as they was passing a large public-’ouse and looked at Sam.

“I don’t want Peter to know, ’cos it might alarm ’im,” he ses, “but I’ve come over a bit faint.  I’ll go in ’ere for ’arf a minnit and sit down.  You’d better wait outside.”