"I congratulate you," said Colin. "It must be an interesting job, but it sounds to me as if it was a bit underpaid."
"There're pickin's," returned Joe, with a wink. "A good second can do a lot toward pullin' orf a fight, an' it gen'rally means arf a crown when you 'appen to be in the winnin' corner. Besides"—he licked his lips—"me bein' in wot you might call an official position, folks as is interested in the game likes to make 'emselves civil. Why, this 'ere job will be worth quarts an' quarts o' beer to me every week."
As he spoke the train steamed into the station, and with a simultaneous movement both of them rose to their feet.
"Where are you off to?" asked Colin. "I get out at Shadwell."
"That's my mark, too," replied Joe. "I gotter go an' see the bloke wot supplies us with our jellied eels. They ain't bin up to standard lately, an' old Solly, 'e's arsked me to call rahnd and tell 'em wot 'e can do with 'em."
They took their seats along with the rest of the passengers, and a few minutes more brought them to the equally grimy platform which serves to connect Shadwell with the outside world.
As they mounted the long flight of steps up to the street Colin again addressed his companion.
"It's no use your coming to the hospital now, Joe," he said. "I've left there for good."
"Started one of your own, sir?" inquired Joe innocently.
"Not yet," replied Colin. "I am what you might call marking time at the moment, but I expect I shall be settling down again soon, and when I do I'll let you know my address. However, I shall probably see you again before then. I am sure to be down here a good deal with my friend Doctor Ashton, and one afternoon I'll walk over to your place and see if there's anything doing. I'd like to have the gloves on again, just for a bit of practice."