William Wymark Jacobs - Night Watches

“We’ll all take care of ‘im,” ses Ginger; “and if there’s a reward we’ll go shares. Mind that!”

“I found ‘im,” ses Sam, very disagreeable. “He came up to me as if he’d known me all ‘is life.”

“No,” ses Ginger. “Don’t you flatter yourself. He came up to you because he didn’t know you, Sam.”

“If he ‘ad, he’d ha’ bit your ‘and,” ses Peter Russet.

“Instead o’ washing it,” ses Ginger.

“Go on!” ses Sam, ‘olding his breath with passion. “Go on!”

Peter opened ‘is mouth, but just then another man came into the bar, and, arter ordering ‘is drink, turned round and patted the dog’s ‘ead.

“That’s a good dog; ‘ow old is he?” he ses to Ginger.

“Two years last April,” ses Ginger, without moving a eyelid.

“Fifth of April,” ses old Sam, very quick and fierce.

“At two o’clock in the morning,” ses Peter.

The man took up ‘is beer and looked at ‘em; then ‘e took a drink and looked at ‘em again. Arter which he ‘ad another look at the dog.

“I could see ‘e was very valuable,” he ses. “I see that the moment I set eyes on ‘im. Mind you don’t get ‘im stole.”

He finished up ‘is beer and went out; and he ‘ad ‘ardly gone afore Ginger took a piece o’ thick string out of ‘is pocket and fastened it to the dog’s collar.

“Make yourself at ‘ome, Ginger,” ses Sam, very nasty.

“I’m going to,” ses Ginger. “That chap knows something about dogs, and, if we can’t get a reward for ‘im, p’r’aps we can sell ‘im.”

They ‘ad another arf-pint each, and then, Ginger taking ‘old of the string, they went out into the street.

“Nine o’clock,” ses Peter. “It’s no good going ‘ome yet, Ginger.”

“We can ‘ave a glass or two on the way,” ses Ginger; “but I sha’n’t feel comfortable in my mind till we’ve got the dog safe ‘ome. P’r’aps the people wot ‘ave lost it are looking for it now.”

They ‘ad another drink farther on, and a man in the bar took such a fancy to the dog that ‘e offered Ginger five shillings for it and drinks round.

“That shows ‘ow valuable it is,” ses Peter Russet when they got outside. “Hold that string tight, Ginger. Wot’s the matter?”

“He won’t come,” ses Ginger, tugging at the string. “Come on, old chap! Good dog! Come on!”

He stood there pulling at the dog, wot was sitting down and being dragged along on its stummick. He didn’t know its name, but ‘e called it a few things that seemed to ease ‘is mind, and then he ‘anded over the string to Sam, wot ‘ad been asking for it, and told ‘im to see wot he could do.

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