They came into this 'ere Cauliflower public-'ouse like brothers, and in
less than ten minutes everybody was making as much fuss o' Bob Pretty as
if 'e'd been the best man in Claybury.

"Arter all, a man can't 'elp winning a prize," ses Bill Chambers, looking
round.

"I couldn't," ses Bob.

He sat down and 'elped hisself out o' Sam Jones's baccy-box; and one or
two got up on the quiet and went outside to listen to wot was going on
down the road. Everybody was wondering wot was happening, and when Bob
Pretty got up and said 'e must be going, Bill Chambers caught 'old of him
by the coat and asked 'im to have arf a pint with 'im.

Bob had the arf-pint, and arter that another one with Sam Jones, and then
'e said 'e really must be going, as his wife was expecting 'im. He
pushed Bill Chambers's 'at over his eyes--a thing Bill can't abear--and
arter filling 'is pipe agin from Sam Jones's box he got up and went.

"Mind you," ses Bill Chambers, looking round, "if 'e comes back and ses
somebody 'as taken his hamper, nobody knows nothing about it."

"I 'ope Henery Walker 'as got it all right," ses Dicky Weed. "When shall
we know?"

"He'll come up 'ere and tell us," ses Bill Chambers. "It's time 'e was
here, a'most."

Five minutes arterwards the door opened and Henery Walker came staggering