"Wot about us?" ses Sam and Ginger, both together.

"Why, you'd 'ave to be teetotallers, too," ses Peter. "Woes the good o'
me pretending to be steady if 'e sees I've got pals like you?"

Sam scratched his 'ead agin, ever so long, and at last he ses, "Well,
mate," he ses, "drink don't trouble me nor Ginger. We can do without it,
as far as that goes; and we must all take it in turns to keep the old
gentleman busy while the others go and get wot they want. You'd better
go and take the room downstairs for 'im, afore it goes."

Peter looked at 'im in surprise, but that was Sam all over. The idea o'
knowing a man with money was too much for 'im, and he sat there giving
good advice to Peter about 'is behavior until Peter didn't know whether
it was 'is uncle or Sam's. 'Owever, he took the room and wrote the
letter, and next arternoon at three o'clock Mr. Goodman came in a four-
wheel cab with a big bag and a fat umbrella. A short, stiffish-built man
of about sixty he was, with 'is top lip shaved and a bit o' short gray
beard. He 'ad on a top 'at and a tail-coat, black kid gloves and a
little black bow, and he didn't answer the cabman back a single word.

[Illustration: "Mr. Goodman came in a four-wheel cab with a big bag and a
fat umbrella."]

He seemed quite pleased to see Peter, and by and by Sam, who was bursting
with curiosity, came down-stairs to ask Peter to lend 'im a boot-lace,
and was interduced. Then Ginger came down to look for Sam, and in a few
minutes they was all talking as comfortable as possible.

"I ain't seen Peter for twenty years," ses Mr. Goodman--"twenty long