"He can starve for all I care," ses Peter, feeling his 'ead. "I won't
lend 'im a ha'penny--not a single, blessed ha'penny."

"Who'd ha' thought 'e could ha' hit like that?" says Ginger. "That's wot
gets over me. I never 'ad such a bang in my life--never. I'm going to
'ave a little drop o' brandy--my 'ead is fair swimming."

Peter 'ad one, too; but though they went into the private bar, it wasn't
private enough for them; and when the landlady asked Ginger who'd been
kissing 'im, he put 'is glass down with a bang and walked straight off
'ome.

Sam 'adn't turned up by the time they got there, and pore Ginger took
advantage of it to put a little warm candle-grease on 'is bad leg. Then
he bathed 'is face very careful and 'elped Peter bathe his 'ead. They
'ad just finished when they heard Sam coming upstairs, and Ginger sat
down on 'is bed and began to whistle, while Peter took up a bit o'
newspaper and stood by the candle reading it.

"Lor' lumme, Ginger!" ses Sam, staring at 'im. "What ha' you been
a-doing to your face?"

"Me?" ses Ginger, careless-like. "Oh, we 'ad a bit of a scrap down
Limehouse way with some Scotchies. Peter got a crack over the 'ead at
the same time."

"Ah, I've 'ad a bit of a scrap, too," ses Sam, smiling all over, "but I
didn't get marked."