CHAPTER XXIII.
THE MEETING OF THE WAYS.
Jim could not forget Harry all day. The hours seemed to drag, and again and again he caught himself wondering if the time seemed as long to the little prisoner, shut within his four walls, with no one to speak to. He determined to go home immediately after his work and take the child for a tram-ride. Even his dinner beer tasted bitter to him to-day, and when he left his work and turned his steps homewards he still had fourpence of his precious sixpence left, wherewith to pay the tram fare.
He was annoyed to find that Jane had not returned, and that there was no supper ready; but he ate what he could find and made a cup of tea.
"I'm going to take you on a tram, Harry," he said, laying his hand affectionately on the boy's shoulder. "Why, child!" he added in astonishment, "your coat's wet! What have you been doing?"
Harry's face clouded. He had forgotten the broken jug for a few minutes in the joy of his uncle's return.
"I broke aunt's jug," he said faintly, "and I all got wetted."
Jim got up and went to inspect the extent of the damage, and he whistled when he saw it.
"Aunt will whip me," said Harry mournfully.
"She'd better not!" said Jim fiercely; "it's my jug. I'll get another on Saturday. Come, let's get ready and be gone before she comes in."