"To keep on the trot, in course," he said, reflectively. "But it ain't to be done by a man like me without a object. If I went about without a object the coppers 'd say, 'Allo! Wot's 'e up to?'"
"Naturally. But if you kept on the trot with an object, they wouldn't think of following you. Eh?"
"No, they'd let me alone. There's one way it's to be done, guv'nor."
"Name it."
"A barrer, with or without a moke."
"And on the barrow?"
"Flowers in pots, all a'blowin' and a'growin'."
"Capital," I said, admiringly. "How much would the stock-in-trade cost?"
"The barrer and moke could be 'ired by the day. Yer'd go as fur as a moke, guv'nor, wouldn't yer? It's killin' work draggin' a barrer full o' flower pots up and down 'ill. There's 'Ampstead way, now. Think o' wot it means, from Coven' Garden to 'Ampstead 'Eath."
"I'd go as far as a moke, Jack." His face brightened. "And the flowers would cost?"