They 'ad another drink farther on, and a man in the bar took such a
fancy to the dog that 'e offered Ginger five shillings for it and drinks
round.

"That shows 'ow valuable it is," ses Peter Russet when they got outside.
"Hold that string tight, Ginger. Wot's the matter?"

"He won't come," ses Ginger, tugging at the string. "Come on, old chap!
Good dog! Come on!"

He stood there pulling at the dog, wot was sitting down and being
dragged along on its stummick. He didn't know its name, but 'e called
it a few things that seemed to ease 'is mind, and then he 'anded over
the string to Sam, wot 'ad been asking for it, and told 'im to see wot
he could do.

"We shall 'ave a crowd round us in a minute," ses Peter. "Mind you
don't bust a blood-vessel, Sam."

"And be locked up for stealing it, p'r'aps," ses Ginger. "Better let it
go, Sam."

"Wot, arter refusing five bob for it?" ses Sam. "Talk sense, Ginger,
and give it a shove be'ind."

Ginger gave it a shove, but it was no good. There was three or four
people coming along the road, and Sam made up 'is mind in an instant,
and 'eld up his 'and to a cab that was passing.

It took the three of 'em to get the dog into the cab, and as soon as it