"It's so awfully sudden. I don't know where I am 'ardly," said Mr. Kidd.
"I don't believe she's got a penny-piece in the 'ouse. Pore Joe 'ad a
lot o' pals. I wonder whether we could'nt get up something for her."

"Go round and tell the police first," said the landlord, pursing up his
lips thoughtfully. "We can talk about that later on."

Mr. Kidd thanked him warmly and withdrew, accompanied by Mr. Brown.
Twenty minutes later they left the station, considerably relieved at the
matter-of-fact way in which the police had received the tidings, and,
hurrying across London Bridge, made their way towards a small figure
supporting its back against a post in the Borough market.

"Well?" said Mr. Gibbs, snappishly, as he turned at the sound of their
footsteps.

"It'll be all right, Joe," said Mr. Kidd. "We've sowed the seed."

"Sowed the wot?" demanded the other.

Mr. Kidd explained.

"Ho!" said Mr. Gibbs. "An' while your precious seed is a-coming up, wot
am I to do? Wot about my comfortable 'ome? Wot about my bed and grub?"

His two friends looked at each other uneasily. In the excitement of the
arrangements they had for gotten these things, and a long and sometimes
painful experience of Mr. Gibbs showed them only too plainly where they
were drifting.