Ginger stuck his ‘ead out o’ the window, and by and by, when Peter whistled, him and Sam took the dog downstairs and out into the street.

“So far so good,” ses Sam; “now, wot about brekfuss?”

They ’ad their brekfuss in their usual coffeeshop, and the dog took bits from all of them.  Unfortunately, ’e wasn’t used to haddick bones, and arter two of the customers ’ad gorn out and two more ’ad complained to the landlord, they ’ad to leave their brekfusses and take ’im outside for a breath o’ fresh air.

“Now, wot are we going to do?” ses Ginger.  “I’m beginning to be sick of the sight of ’im.  ’Ave we got to lead ‘im about all day on a bit o’ string?”

“Let’s take ’im round the corner and lose ’im,” ses Peter Russet.

“You give me ‘old o’ that string,” ses Sam.  “If you don’t want shares, that’s all right.  If I’m going to look arter ’im I’ll ’ave it all.”

That made Ginger and Peter look at each other.  Direckly Sam began to talk about money they began to think they might be losing something.

“And wot about ’aving ’im in our bedroom and keeping us awake all night?” ses Peter.

“And putting it on to me with the toothache,” ses Ginger.  “No; you can look arter ’im, Sam, while me and Peter goes off and enjoys ourselves; and if you get anything we go shares, mind.”

“All right,” ses Sam, turning away with the dog.

“And suppose Sam gets a reward or sells it, and then tells us that it ran away and ’e lost it?” ses Peter.

“O’ course; I never thought o’ that,” ses Ginger.  “You’ve got your ’ead on straight, Peter.”

“I see ’im smile, that’s why,” ses Peter Russet.

“You’re a liar,” ses Sam.

“We’ll stick together,” ses Ginger.  “Leastways, one of us’ll keep with you, Sam.”

They settled it that way at last, and while Ginger went for a walk down round about where they ’ad found the dog, Sam Small and Peter waited for him in a little public-’ouse down Limehouse way.  Their idea was that there would be bills up, and when Ginger came back and said there wasn’t, they ’ad a lot to say about people wot wasn’t fit to ’ave dogs because they didn’t love ’em.

They ‘ad a miserable day.  When the dog got sick o’ sitting in a pub ’e made such a noise they ’ad to take ’im out; and when ‘e got tired o’ walking about he sat down on the pavement and they ’ad to drag ’im along to the nearest pub agin.  At five o’clock in the arternoon Ginger Dick was talking about two-penn’orth o’ rat-poison.

“Wot are we to do with ’im till twelve o’clock to-night?” ses Peter.

“And s’pose we can’t smuggle ’im into the ’ouse agin?” ses Ginger.  “Or suppose he makes that noise agin in the night?”

They ’ad a pint each to ’elp them to think wot was to be done.  And, arter a lot o’ talking and quarrelling, they did wot a lot of other people ’ave done when they got into trouble:  they came to me.