"There ain't no such thing as ghosts," he ses; "you've been drinking."

"It came up out o' the river and run arter me like the wind," I ses.

"Why didn't it catch you, then?" he ses, looking me up and down and all
round about. "Talk sense."

He went up to the gate and peeped in, and, arter watching a moment,
stepped inside and walked down the wharf, with me follering. It was my
dooty; besides, I didn't like being left all alone by myself.

Twice we walked up and down and all over the wharf. He flashed his
lantern into all the dark corners, into empty barrels and boxes, and then
he turned and flashed it right into my face and shook his 'ead at me.

"You've been having a bit of a lark with me," he ses, "and for two pins
I'd take you. Mind, if you say a word about this to anybody, I will."

He stalked off with his 'ead in the air, and left me all alone in charge
of a wharf with a ghost on it. I stayed outside in the street, of
course, but every now and then I fancied I heard something moving about
the other side of the gate, and once it was so distinct that I run along
to the Bear's Head and knocked 'em up and asked them for a little brandy,
for illness.

I didn't get it, of course; I didn't expect to; but I 'ad a little
conversation with the landlord from 'is bedroom-winder that did me more
good than the brandy would ha' done. Once or twice I thought he would
'ave fallen out, and many a man has 'ad his licence taken away for less
than a quarter of wot 'e said to me that night. Arter he thought he 'ad