‘Yes: and he’s got to be found out too,’ said Joe Hanlon. ‘There ain’t been such a thing known in the Duke’s Own these years past.’
‘No, nor wouldn’t be now,’ said another, ‘if we got honest lads as recruits. We want no swell-mobsmen and high-falutin dandies with their grand airs, and their fine talk, who come from no one knows where.’
‘What d’ye mean?’ asked Hanlon sharply. ‘If that’s a slap at my towney, I give you the lie, and no two words about it. Larkins is as honest a young chap as ever took the shilling.’
‘Well, Jubbock said—’
‘It’s just what I thought,’ said ‘the Boy.’ ‘Jubbock means mischief, but I’ll circumvent him, or my name’s not Joe Hanlon.’
Matters were presently brought to a crisis. Two half-crowns, a shilling and some coppers were stolen on the day following pay-day, and the men were growing furious.
‘I’d swear to my half-crown anywhere,’ said one victim. ‘It had a twist at the edges and a scar on the Queen’s nose.’
‘Let’s all agree to be searched—our kits, and packs, and all.’
‘Yes, yes,’ everybody cried. ‘We’ll call the colour-sergeant, and do it all regular and proper, so we will.’