Sailormen are not good 'ands at saving money as a rule, said thenight-watchman, as he wistfully toyed with a bad shilling on hiswatch-chain, though to 'ear 'em talk of saving when they're at sea andthere isn't a pub within a thousand miles of 'em, you might thinkdifferent.

  It ain't for the want of trying either with some of 'em, and I've knownmen do all sorts o' things as soon as they was paid off, with a view tosaving. I knew one man as used to keep all but a shilling or two in abelt next to 'is skin so that he couldn't get at it easy, but it was allno good. He was always running short in the most inconvenient places.I've seen 'im wriggle for five minutes right off, with a tramcarconductor standing over 'im and the other people in the tram readingtheir papers with one eye and watching him with the other.

  Ginger Dick and Peter Russet--two men I've spoke of to you afore--triedto save their money once. They'd got so sick and tired of spending itall in p'r'aps a week or ten days arter coming ashore, and 'aving to goto sea agin sooner than they 'ad intended, that they determined some wayor other to 'ave things different.

  They was homeward bound on a steamer from Melbourne when they made theirminds up; and Isaac Lunn, the oldest fireman aboard--a very steady oldteetotaler--gave them a lot of good advice about it. They all wanted torejoin the ship when she sailed agin, and 'e offered to take a roomashore with them and mind their money, giving 'em what 'e called amoderate amount each day.

  They would ha' laughed at any other man, but they knew that old Isaacwas as honest as could be and that their money would be safe with 'im,and at last, after a lot of palaver, they wrote out a paper saying asthey were willing for 'im to 'ave their money and give it to 'em bit bybit, till they went to sea agin.

  Anybody but Ginger Dick and Peter Russet or a fool would ha' knownbetter than to do such a thing, but old Isaac 'ad got such a oily tongueand seemed so fair-minded about wot 'e called moderate drinking thatthey never thought wot they was letting themselves in for, and when theytook their pay--close on sixteen pounds each--they put the odd change intheir pockets and 'anded the rest over to him.

  The first day they was as pleased as Punch. Old Isaac got a nice,respectable bedroom for them all, and arter they'd 'ad a few drinks theyhumoured 'im by 'aving a nice 'ot cup o' tea, and then goin' off with'im to see a magic-lantern performance.

  It was called "The Drunkard's Downfall," and it begun with a young mangoing into a nice-looking pub and being served by a nice-looking barmaidwith a glass of ale. Then it got on to 'arf pints and pints in the nextpicture, and arter Ginger 'ad seen the lost young man put away six pintsin about 'arf a minute, 'e got such a raging thirst on 'im that 'ecouldn't sit still, and 'e whispered to Peter Russet to go out with 'im.

  "You'll lose the best of it if you go now," ses old Isaac, in a whisper;"in the next picture there's little frogs and devils sitting on the edgeof the pot as 'e goes to drink."

  "Ginger Dick got up and nodded to Peter."

  "Arter that 'e kills 'is mother with a razor," ses old Isaac, pleadingwith 'im and 'olding on to 'is coat.

  Ginger Dick sat down agin, and when the murder was over 'e said it made'im feel faint, and 'im and Peter Russet went out for a breath of freshair. They 'ad three at the first place, and then they moved on toanother and forgot all about Isaac and the dissolving views until teno'clock, when Ginger, who 'ad been very liberal to some friends 'e'dmade in a pub, found 'e'd spent 'is last penny.

  "This comes o' listening to a parcel o' teetotalers," 'e ses, verycross, when 'e found that Peter 'ad spent all 'is money too. "Here weare just beginning the evening and not a farthing in our pockets."

  They went off 'ome in a very bad temper. Old Isaac was asleep in 'isbed, and when they woke 'im up and said that they was going to takecharge of their money themselves 'e kept dropping off to sleep agin andsnoring that 'ard they could scarcely hear themselves speak. Then Petertipped Ginger a wink and pointed to Isaac's trousers, which were 'angingover the foot of the bed.

  Ginger Dick smiled and took 'em up softly, and Peter Russet smiled too;but 'e wasn't best pleased to see old Isaac a-smiling in 'is sleep, asthough 'e was 'aving amusing dreams. All Ginger found was a ha'-penny, abunch o' keys, and a cough lozenge. In the coat and waistcoat 'e found afew tracks folded up, a broken pen-knife, a ball of string, and someother rubbish. Then 'e set down on the foot o' their bed and made eyesover at Peter.

  "Wake 'im up agin," ses Peter, in a temper.

  Ginger Dick got up and, leaning over the bed, took old Isaac by theshoulders and shook 'im as if 'e'd been a bottle o' medicine.

  "Time to get up, lads?" ses old Isaac, putting one leg out o' bed.

  "No, it ain't," ses Ginger, very rough; "we ain't been to bed yet. Wewant our money back."

  Isaac drew 'is leg back into bed agin. "Goo' night," he ses, and fellfast asleep.

  "He's shamming, that's wot 'e is," ses Peter Russet. "Let's look for it.It must be in the room somewhere."

  They turned the room upside down pretty near, and then Ginger Dickstruck a match and looked up the chimney, but all 'e found was that it'adn't been swept for about twenty years, and wot with temper and soot'e looked so frightful that Peter was arf afraid of 'im.

  "I've 'ad enough of this," ses Ginger, running up to the bed and 'oldinghis sooty fist under old Isaac's nose. "Now, then, where's that money?If you don't give us our money, our 'ard-earned money, inside o' twominutes, I'll break every bone in your body."

  "This is wot comes o' trying to do you a favour, Ginger," ses the oldman, reproachfully.

  "Don't talk to me," ses Ginger, "cos I won't have it. Come on; where isit?"

  Old Isaac looked at 'im, and then he gave a sigh and got up and put on'is boots and 'is trousers.

  "I thought I should 'ave a little trouble with you," he ses, slowly,"but I was prepared for that."

  "You'll 'ave more if you don't hurry up," ses Ginger, glaring at 'im.

  "We don't want to 'urt you, Isaac," ses Peter Russet, "we on'y want ourmoney."

  "I know that," ses Isaac; "you keep still, Peter, and see fair-play, andI'll knock you silly arterwards."

  He pushed some o' the things into a corner and then 'e spat on 'is'ands, and began to prance up and down, and duck 'is 'ead about and hitthe air in a way that surprised 'em.

  "I ain't hit a man for five years," 'e ses, still dancing up and down--"fighting's sinful except in a good cause--but afore I got a new 'art,Ginger, I'd lick three men like you afore breakfast, just to git up aappetite."

  "Look, 'ere," ses Ginger; "you're an old man and I don't want to 'urtyou; tell us where our money is, our 'ard-earned money, and I won't laya finger on you."

  "I'm taking care of it for you," ses the old man.

  Ginger Dick gave a howl and rushed at him, and the next moment Isaac'sfist shot out and give 'im a drive that sent 'im spinning across theroom until 'e fell in a heap in the fireplace. It was like a kick from a'orse, and Peter looked very serious as 'e picked 'im up and dusted 'imdown.

  "You should keep your eye on 'is fist," he ses, sharply.

  It was a silly thing to say, seeing that that was just wot 'ad 'appened,and Ginger told 'im wot 'e'd do for 'im when 'e'd finished with Isaac.He went at the old man agin, but 'e never 'ad a chance, and in aboutthree minutes 'e was very glad to let Peter 'elp 'im into bed.

  "It's your turn to fight him now, Peter," he ses. "Just move this pillerso as I can see."

  "Come on, lad," ses the old man.

  Peter shook 'is 'ead. "I have no wish to 'urt you, Isaac," he ses,kindly; "excitement like fighting is dangerous for an old man. Give usour money and we'll say no more about it."

  "No, my lads," ses Isaac. "I've undertook to take charge o' this moneyand I'm going to do it; and I 'ope that when we all sign on aboard thePlanet there'll be a matter o' twelve pounds each left. Now, I don'twant to be 'arsh with you, but I'm going back to bed, and if I 'ave toget up and dress agin you'll wish yourselves dead."

  He went back to bed agin, and Peter, taking no notice of Ginger Dick,who k
ept calling 'im a coward, got into bed alongside of Ginger and fellfast asleep.

  They all 'ad breakfast in a coffee-shop next morning, and arter it wasover Ginger, who 'adn't spoke a word till then, said that 'e and PeterRusset wanted a little money to go on with. He said they preferred toget their meals alone, as Isaac's face took their appetite away.

  "Very good," ses the old man. "I don't want to force my company onnobody," and after thinking 'ard for a minute or two he put 'is 'and in'is trouser-pocket and gave them eighteen-pence each.

  "That's your day's allowance," ses Isaac, "and it's plenty. There'sninepence for your dinner, fourpence for your tea, and twopence for acrust o' bread and cheese for supper. And if you must go and drownyourselves in beer, that leaves threepence each to go and do it with."

  Ginger tried to speak to 'im, but 'is feelings was too much for 'im, and'e couldn't. Then Peter Russet swallered something 'e was going to sayand asked old Isaac very perlite to make it a quid for 'im because hewas going down to Colchester to see 'is mother, and 'e didn't want to goempty-'anded.

  "You're a good son, Peter," ses old Isaac, "and I wish there was morelike you. I'll come down with you, if you like; I've got nothing to do."

  Peter said it was very kind of 'im, but 'e'd sooner go alone, owing tohis mother being very shy afore strangers.

  "Well, I'll come down to the station and take a ticket for you," sesIsaac.

  Then Peter lost 'is temper altogether, and banged 'is fist on the tableand smashed 'arf the crockery. He asked Isaac whether 'e thought 'im andGinger Dick was a couple o' children, and 'e said if 'e didn't give 'emall their money right away 'e'd give 'im in charge to the firstpoliceman they met.

  "I'm afraid you didn't intend for to go and see your mother, Peter," sesthe old man.

  "Look 'ere," ses Peter, "are you going to give us that money?"

  "Not if you went down on your bended knees," ses the old man.

  "Very good," says Peter, getting up and walking outside; "then comealong o' me to find a police-man."

  "I'm agreeable," ses Isaac, "but I've got the paper you signed."

  Peter said 'e didn't care twopence if 'e'd got fifty papers, and theywalked along looking for a police-man, which was a very unusual thingfor them to do.

  "I 'ope for your sakes it won't be the same police-man that you andGinger Dick set on in Gun Alley the night afore you shipped on thePlanet," ses Isaac, pursing up 'is lips.

  "'Tain't likely to be," ses Peter, beginning to wish 'e 'adn't been sofree with 'is tongue.

  "Still, if I tell 'im, I dessay he'll soon find 'im," ses Isaac;"there's one coming along now, Peter; shall I stop 'im?"

  Peter Russet looked at 'im and then he looked at Ginger, and they walkedby grinding their teeth. They stuck to Isaac all day, trying to gettheir money out of 'im, and the names they called 'im was a surpriseeven to themselves. And at night they turned the room topsy-turvy aginlooking for their money and 'ad more unpleasantness when they wantedIsaac to get up and let 'em search the bed.

  They 'ad breakfast together agin next morning and Ginger tried anothertack. He spoke quite nice to Isaac, and 'ad three large cups o' tea toshow 'im 'ow 'e was beginning to like it, and when the old man gave 'emtheir eighteen-pences 'e smiled and said 'e'd like a few shillings extrathat day.

  "It'll be all right, Isaac," he ses. "I wouldn't 'ave a drink if youasked me to. Don't seem to care for it now. I was saying so to you on'ylast night, wasn't I, Peter?"

  "You was," ses Peter; "so was I."

  "Then I've done you good, Ginger," ses Isaac, clapping 'im on the back.

  "You 'ave," ses Ginger, speaking between his teeth, "and I thank you forit. I don't want drink; but I thought o' going to a music-'all thisevening."

  "Going to wot?" ses old Isaac, drawing 'imself up and looking veryshocked.

  "A music-'all," ses Ginger, trying to keep 'is temper.

  "A music-'all," ses Isaac; "why, it's worse than a pub, Ginger. I shouldbe a very poor friend o' yours if I let you go there--I couldn't thinkof it."

  "Wot's it got to do with you, you gray-whiskered serpent?" screamsGinger, arf mad with rage. "Why don't you leave us alone? Why don't youmind your own business? It's our money."

  Isaac tried to talk to 'im, but 'e wouldn't listen, and he made such afuss that at last the coffee-shop keeper told 'im to go outside. Peterfollered 'im out, and being very upset they went and spent their day'sallowance in the first hour, and then they walked about the streetsquarrelling as to the death they'd like old Isaac to 'ave when 'is timecame.

  They went back to their lodgings at dinner-time; but there was no signof the old man, and, being 'ungry and thirsty, they took all their spareclothes to a pawnbroker and got enough money to go on with. Just to showtheir independence they went to two music-'ails, and with a sort of ideathat they was doing Isaac a bad turn they spent every farthing aforethey got 'ome, and sat up in bed telling 'im about the spree they'd 'ad.

  At five o'clock in the morning Peter woke up and saw, to 'is surprise,that Ginger Dick was dressed and carefully folding up old Isaac'sclothes. At first 'e thought that Ginger 'ad gone mad, taking care ofthe old man's things like that, but afore 'e could speak Ginger noticedthat 'e was awake, and stepped over to 'im and whispered to 'im to dresswithout making a noise. Peter did as 'e was told, and, more puzzled thanever, saw Ginger make up all the old man's clothes in a bundle and creepout of the room on tiptoe.

  "Going to 'ide 'is clothes?" 'e ses.

  "Yes," ses Ginger, leading the way downstairs; "in a pawnshop. We'llmake the old man pay for to-day's amusements."

  Then Peter see the joke and 'e begun to laugh so 'ard that Ginger 'ad tothreaten to knock 'is head off to quiet 'im. Ginger laughed 'imself whenthey got outside, and at last, arter walking about till the shopsopened, they got into a pawnbroker's and put old Isaac's clothes up forfifteen shillings.

  First thing they did was to 'ave a good breakfast, and after that theycame out smiling all over and began to spend a 'appy day. Ginger was intip-top spirits and so was Peter, and the idea that old Isaac was in bedwhile they was drinking 'is clothes pleased them more than anything.Twice that evening policemen spoke to Ginger for dancing on thepavement, and by the time the money was spent it took Peter all 'is timeto get 'im 'ome.

  Old Isaac was in bed when they got there, and the temper 'e was in wasshocking; but Ginger sat on 'is bed and smiled at 'im as if 'e wassaying compliments to 'im.

  "Where's my clothes?" ses the old man, shaking 'is fist at the two of'em.

  Ginger smiled at 'im; then 'e shut 'is eyes and dropped off to sleep.

  "Where's my clothes?" ses Isaac, turning to Peter. "Closhe?" ses Peter,staring at 'im.

  "Where are they?" ses Isaac.

  It was a long time afore Peter could understand wot 'e meant, but assoon as 'e did 'e started to look for 'em. Drink takes people indifferent ways, and the way it always took Peter was to make 'im one o'the most obliging men that ever lived. He spent arf the night crawlingabout on all fours looking for the clothes, and four or five times oldIsaac woke up from dreams of earthquakes to find Peter 'ad got jammedunder 'is bed, and was wondering what 'ad 'appened to 'im.

  None of 'em was in the best o' tempers when they woke up next morning,and Ginger 'ad 'ardly got 'is eyes open before Isaac was asking 'imabout 'is clothes agin.

  "Don't bother me about your clothes," ses Ginger; "talk about somethingelse for a change."

  "Where are they?" ses Isaac, sitting on the edge of 'is bed.

  Ginger yawned and felt in 'is waistcoat pocket--for neither of 'em 'adundressed--and then 'e took the pawn-ticket out and threw it on thefloor. Isaac picked it up, and then 'e began to dance about the room asif 'e'd gone mad.

  "Do you mean to tell me you've pawned my clothes?" he shouts.

  "Me and Peter did," ses Ginger, sitting up in bed and getting ready fora row.

  Isaac dropped on the bed agin all of a 'cap. "And wot am I to do?" heses.

  "If you be'ave yourself," ses Ging
er, "and give us our money, me andPeter'll go and get 'em out agin. When we've 'ad breakfast, that is.There's no hurry."

  "But I 'aven't got the money," ses Isaac; "it was all sewn up in thelining of the coat. I've on'y got about five shillings. You've made anice mess of it, Ginger, you 'ave."

  "You're a silly fool, Ginger, that's wot you are," ses Peter.

  "Sewn up in the lining of the coat?" ses Ginger, staring.

  "The bank-notes was," ses Isaac, "and three pounds in gold 'idden in thecap. Did you pawn that too?"

  Ginger got up in 'is excitement and walked up and down the room. "Wemust go and get 'em out at once," he ses.

  "And where's the money to do it with?" ses Peter.

  Ginger 'adn't thought of that, and it struck 'im all of a heap. None of'em seemed to be able to think of a way of getting the other tenshillings wot was wanted, and Ginger was so upset that 'e took no noticeof the things Peter kept saying to 'im.

  "Let's go and ask to see 'em, and say we left a railway-ticket in thepocket," ses Peter.

  Isaac shook 'is 'ead. "There's on'y one way to do it," he ses. "We shall'ave to pawn your clothes, Ginger, to get mine out with."

  "That's the on'y way, Ginger," ses Peter, brightening up. "Now, wot'sthe good o' carrying on like that? It's no worse for you to be withoutyour clothes for a little while than it was for pore old Isaac."

  It took 'em quite arf an hour afore they could get Ginger to see it.First of all 'e wanted Peter's clothes to be took instead of 'is, andwhen Peter pointed out that they was too shabby to fetch ten shillings'e 'ad a lot o' nasty things to say about wearing such old rags, and atlast, in a terrible temper, 'e took 'is clothes off and pitched 'em in a'eap on the floor.

  "If you ain't back in arf an hour, Peter," 'e ses, scowling at 'im,"you'll 'ear from me, I can tell you."

  "Don't you worry about that," ses Isaac, with a smile. "I'm going totake 'em."

  "You?" ses Ginger; "but you can't. You ain't got no clothes."

  "I'm going to wear Peter's," ses Isaac, with a smile.

  Peter asked 'im to listen to reason, but it was all no good. He'd gotthe pawn-ticket, and at last Peter, forgetting all he'd said to GingerDick about using bad langwidge, took 'is clothes off, one by one, anddashed 'em on the floor, and told Isaac some of the things 'e thought of'im.

  The old man didn't take any notice of 'im. He dressed 'imself up veryslow and careful in Peter's clothes, and then 'e drove 'em nearly crazyby wasting time making 'is bed.

  "Be as quick as you can, Isaac," ses Ginger, at last; "think of us twoa-sitting 'ere waiting for you."

  "I sha'n't forget it," ses Isaac, and 'e came back to the door after'e'd gone arf-way down the stairs to ask 'em not to go out on the drinkwhile 'e was away.

  It was nine o'clock when he went, and at ha'-past nine Ginger began toget impatient and wondered wot 'ad 'appened to 'im, and when ten o'clockcame and no Isaac they was both leaning out of the winder with blanketsover their shoulders looking up the road. By eleven o'clock Peter was invery low spirits and Ginger was so mad 'e was afraid to speak to 'im.

  They spent the rest o' that day 'anging out of the winder, but it wasnot till ha'-past four in the after-noon that Isaac, still wearingPeter's clothes and carrying a couple of large green plants under 'isarm, turned into the road, and from the way 'e was smiling they thoughtit must be all right.

  "Wot 'ave you been such a long time for?" ses Ginger, in a low, fiercevoice, as Isaac stopped underneath the winder and nodded up to 'em.

  "I met a old friend," ses Isaac.

  "Met a old friend?" ses Ginger, in a passion. "Wot d'ye mean, wastingtime like that while we was sitting up 'ere waiting and starving?"

  "I 'adn't seen 'im for years," ses Isaac, "and time slipped away afore Inoticed it."

  "I dessay," ses Ginger, in a bitter voice. "Well, is the money allright?"

  "I don't know," ses Isaac; "I ain't got the clothes."

  "Wot?" ses Ginger, nearly falling out of the winder. "Well, wot 'ave youdone with mine, then? Where are they? Come upstairs."

  "I won't come upstairs, Ginger," ses Isaac, "because I'm not quite surewhether I've done right. But I'm not used to going into pawnshops, and Iwalked about trying to make up my mind to go in and couldn't."

  "Well, wot did you do then?" ses Ginger, 'ardly able to contain hisself.

  "While I was trying to make up my mind," ses old Isaac, "I see a manwith a barrer of lovely plants. 'E wasn't asking money for 'em, only oldclothes."

  "Old clothes?" ses Ginger, in a voice as if 'e was being suffocated.

  "I thought they'd be a bit o' green for you to look at," ses the oldman, 'olding the plants up; "there's no knowing 'ow long you'll be upthere. The big one is yours, Ginger, and the other is for Peter."

  "'Ave you gone mad, Isaac?" ses Peter, in a trembling voice, arterGinger 'ad tried to speak and couldn't.

  Isaac shook 'is 'ead and smiled up at 'em, and then, arter telling Peterto put Ginger's blanket a little more round 'is shoulders, for fear 'eshould catch cold, 'e said 'e'd ask the landlady to send 'em up somebread and butter and a cup o' tea.

  They 'eard 'im talking to the landlady at the door, and then 'e went offin a hurry without looking behind 'im, and the landlady walked up anddown on the other side of the road with 'er apron stuffed in 'er mouth,pretending to be looking at 'er chimney-pots.

  Isaac didn't turn up at all that night, and by next morning those twounfortunate men see 'ow they'd been done. It was quite plain to themthat Isaac 'ad been deceiving them, and Peter was pretty certain that 'etook the money out of the bed while 'e was fussing about making it. OldIsaac kept 'em there for three days, sending 'em in their clothes bit bybit and two shillings a day to live on; but they didn't set eyes on 'imagin until they all signed on aboard the Planet, and they didn't seteyes on their money until they was two miles below Gravesend.

  THE CASTAWAY