'im it serves 'im right. Arter we've 'ad a game with 'im for a day or
two we'll give 'im 'is money back."

"But he'd reckernize us," ses Ginger.

"We must disguise ourselves," ses Peter, in a whisper. "There's a
barber's shop in Cable Street, where I've seen beards in the winder. You
hook 'em on over your ears. Get one o' them each, pull our caps over our
eyes and turn our collars up, and there you are."

Ginger made a lot of objections, not because he didn't think it was a
good idea, but because he didn't like Peter thinking of it instead of
'im; but he gave way at last, and, arter he 'ad got the beard, he stood
for a long time in front o' the glass thinking wot a difference it would
ha' made to his looks if he had 'ad black 'air instead o' red.

Waiting for the evening made the day seem very long to 'em; but it came
at last, and, with the beards in their pockets, they slipped out and went
for a walk round. They 'ad 'arf a pint each at a public-'ouse at the top
of the Minories, just to steady themselves, and then they came out and
hooked on their beards; and wot with them, and pulling their caps down
and turning their coat-collars up, there wasn't much of their faces to be
seen by anybody.

It was just five minutes to nine when they got to Tower Hill, and they
walked down the middle of the road, keeping a bright lookout for old Sam.
A little way down they saw a couple o' chaps leaning up agin a closed
gate in the dock wall lighting their pipes, and Peter and Ginger both
nudged each other with their elbows at the same time. They 'ad just got
to the bottom of the Hill when Sam turned the corner.