"Where's Albert then?" asked Jerry.
"He said he wasn't comin'."
"He's been sayin' that every Sunday these ten year past," answered Jerry with the insolence of the ancient habitué. "Ere, one o' you kids, fetch me a bit o' chalk. I 'ate to see you idlin' your time away, gamblin' and dicin', like the Profligate Son when he broke the bank at Monte Carlo."
He mounted the platform.
"While Ginger's gettin' the chalk I'll ask you a question or two to testify your general knowledge."
He took the cigarette out of his mouth, and wriggled his chin above his high collar.
"Who done Mr. Silver down?" he asked pontifically.
There was a moment's silence. Then a hand went up.
"Chukkers," piped the cherub-faced urchin.
There was a jeer from the other lads, and even the proud Stanley deigned to smile.