DEEP WATERS

By W.W. JACOBS




THE SUBSTITUTE

The night watchman had just returned to the office fire after leaving it
to attend a ring at the wharf bell. He sat for some time puffing
fiercely at his pipe and breathing heavily.

"Boys!" he said, at last. "That's the third time this week, and yet if I
was to catch one and skin 'im alive I suppose I should get into trouble
over it. Even 'is own father and mother would make a fuss, most like.
Some people have boys, and other people 'ave the trouble of 'em. Our
street's full of 'em, and the way they carry on would make a monkey-'ouse
ashamed of itself. The man next door to me's got seven of 'em, and when
I spoke to 'im friendly about it over a pint one night, he put the blame
on 'is wife.

"The worst boy I ever knew used to be office-boy in this 'ere office, and
I can't understand now why I wasn't 'ung for him. Undersized little chap
he was, with a face the colour o' bad pie-crust, and two little black
eyes like shoe-buttons. To see 'im with his little white cuffs, and a
stand-up collar, and a little black bow, and a little bowler-'at, was
enough to make a cat laugh. I told 'im so one day, and arter that we
knew where we was. Both of us.