"Got what?"
"I knows 'ow we can work it."
There was a pause, as Alf allowed this to sink in. "Work what?" he asked at last.
"Wake up, you fat'ed, an' listen. It's a transfer we want."
"A what?"
"A transfer!"
"Do we?"
Bill's overtried nerves snapped suddenly.
"If it wasn't for the row it'd make, I'd dot yer one," he hissed fiercely. "'Ere, put yer things on quiet an' slip outside, an' I'll tell yer there."
A few moments later, in the dim first light of dawn, Bill unfolded his scheme.