"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.
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