“All right, guv’nor,” cried the convicts. “Don’t draw the string too tight,” said a prisoner. “If so be as the gentleman is in a generous mood it won’t hurt you or anyone else to let us have the benefit on it.”
“Well take what’s given you and look sharp about it,” returned the warder.
“We aint proud any on us,” said the prisoner, addressing himself to those on the platform. “A pennorth o’ shag will be acceptable, but cheeroots and cigars we shall be grateful for.”
Several of the throng on the platform burst out in a loud laugh, and cigars and tobacco were supplied in a most generous manner.
“We shan’t forget this kindness,” cried one or two of the convicts; “and you’ve no call to be afeard that we shall rob any of you. Come what may, we aint such wretches as people suppose us to be, for all that we are in a bit of trouble just now.”
“I hope you will mend your ways, and that your hearts may be turned from wickedness,” said a tall, thin man, with a white choker, thrusting at the same time a handful of tracts in at the carriage window.
“Oh! I say, guv’nor, give us something better than these; they ain’t of no use.”
The tract distributor made no reply, but made off without further ado.
“One of the goody-goody sort,” murmured a convict. “Aint much to be got out of any of his kidney. He aint my sort.”
“Sit down, men,” again repeated the warder; “we are just going to start.”