“Let’s ’ave a look at it,” he ses, sitting up.
“Ginger’s dreaming,” ses Sam, in a shaky voice. “I ain’t got no locket. Wot d’you think I want a locket for?”
Ginger got out o’ bed and lit the candle agin. “Come on!” he ses, “let’s ’ave a look at it. I wasn’t dreaming. I’ve been awake all the time, watching you.”
Sam shut ’is eyes and turned his back to them.
“He’s gone to sleep, pore old chap,” ses Ginger. “We’ll ’ave a look at it without waking ’im. You take that side, Peter! Mind you don’t disturb ’im.”
He put his ’and in under the bed-clo’es and felt all up and down Sam’s back, very careful. Sam stood it for ’arf a minute, and then ’e sat up in bed and behaved more like a windmill than a man.
“Hold his ’ands,” ses Ginger.
“Hold ’em yourself,” ses Peter, dabbing ’is nose with his shirt-sleeve.
“Well, we’re going to see it,” ses Ginger, “if we have to make enough noise to rouse the ’ouse. Fust of all we’re going to ask you perlite; then we shall get louder and louder. Show us the locket wot you stole, Sam!”
“Show—us—the—diamond locket!” ses Peter.