arter being away for nearly ten months. They 'ad all got money in their
pockets, and they was just talking about the spree they was going to
have, when a letter was brought to Peter, wot had been waiting for 'im at
the office.

He didn't like opening it at fust. The last letter he had 'ad kept 'im
hiding indoors for a week, and then made him ship a fortnight afore 'e
had meant to. He stood turning it over and over, and at last, arter Sam,
wot was always a curious man, 'ad told 'im that if he didn't open it he'd
do it for 'im, he tore it open and read it.

"It's from my old uncle, George Goodman," he ses, staring. "Why, I ain't
seen 'im for over twenty years."

"Do you owe 'im any money?" ses Sam.

Peter shook his 'ead. "He's up in London," he ses, looking at the letter
agin, "up in London for the fust time in thirty-three years, and he wants
to come and stay with me so that I can show 'im about."

"Wot is he?" ses Sam.

"He's retired," ses Peter, trying not to speak proud.

"Got money?" ses Sam, with a start.

"I b'leeve so," ses Peter, in a off-hand way. "I don't s'pose 'e lives
on air."

"Any wives or children?" ses Sam.