"Last house I scrubbed out I did it so thoroughly they accused me of
pouching the soap. Hang 'em!"

"And you didn't?" queried the boatswain, eyeing him keenly.

The soldier rose and, knocking the ashes out of his pipe, gazed at him
darkly. "I can't give it back to you," he said, slowly, "because I've
smoked some of it, and I can't pay you for it because I've only got
twopence, and that I want for myself. So long, matey, and next time
a poor wretch asks you for a pipe, be civil."

"I never see such a man for taking offence in all my born days,"
expostulated the boat-swain. "I 'ad my reasons for that remark, mate.
Good reasons they was."

The soldier grunted and, stooping, picked up his bundle.

"I spoke of arf a sovereign just now," continued the boatswain,
impressively, "and when I tell you that I offer it to you to do a bit o'
burgling, you'll see 'ow necessary it is for me to be certain of your
honesty."

"_Burgling?_" gasped the astonished soldier. "_Honesty?_ 'Struth; are
you drunk or am I?"

"Meaning," said the boatswain, waving the imputation away with his hand,
"for you to pretend to be a burglar."

"We're both drunk, that's what it is," said the other, resignedly.