SHIP'S COMPANY

By W.W. Jacobs



THE GUARDIAN ANGEL

[Illustration: "The lodger was standing at the foot o' Ginger's bed,
going through 'is pockets."]

The night-watchman shook his head. "I never met any of these phil--
philantherpists, as you call 'em," he said, decidedly. "If I 'ad they
wouldn't 'ave got away from me in a hurry, I can tell you. I don't say I
don't believe in 'em; I only say I never met any of 'em. If people do
you a kindness it's generally because they want to get something out of
you; same as a man once--a perfick stranger--wot stood me eight
'arf-pints becos I reminded 'im of his dead brother, and then borrered
five bob off of me.

"O' course, there must be some kind-'arted people in the world--all men
who get married must 'ave a soft spot somewhere, if it's only in the
'ead--but they don't often give things away. Kind-'artedness is often
only another name for artfulness, same as Sam Small's kindness to Ginger
Dick and Peter Russet.

"It started with a row. They was just back from a v'y'ge and 'ad taken a
nice room together in Wapping, and for the fust day or two, wot with
'aving plenty o' money to spend and nothing to do, they was like three
brothers. Then, in a little, old-fashioned public-'ouse down Poplar way,