Just then, as we were going down the muddiest street I ever saw, I became aware of a dirty, ragged-looking fellow of eighteen or nineteen trotting along beside the cab, and directly after of one on the other side, who kept up persistently till at last we reached the docks and the cabman drew up.
“Drive on,” I shouted.
“Don’t go no further,” was the reply, and I stepped out into the drizzle to see about my chest and pay the man, just as a sharp quarrel was going on close by, and I saw a lad a little bigger than myself scuffling with two more rough-looking fellows who had seized upon his chest, and insisted upon carrying it.
The next moment I was engaged with the pair who had trotted by my cab, and who had fastened most officiously upon mine.
“You touch it again,” came sharply, “and I’ll let you know.”
“Leave the box alone,” I said, “I don’t want your help.”
“Carry it in, sir. I was fust, sir. Yah! you get out.”
“Don’t let ’em take it,” shouted the lad who was squabbling with the first pair, and I was just beginning to think that I should have to fight for my belongings, when a dock policeman came to our help, the cabmen were paid, and our chests were placed upon a truck, while the cab touts pressed upon us and insisted on being paid for doing nothing.
“You must have got plenty of tin,” said my companion in difficulties, after I had compromised matters by giving each of the ragged touts a shilling; “you won’t do that next voyage. I did first time I came.”
“Have you been to sea before, then?” I said, looking at the speaker with interest.