"So he did," ses the policeman. "So he did. I'd forgot that. Do you know 'im well?"
"Not more than I can 'elp," ses the landlord. "He's been in my place a good bit, but I never knew of any reason why 'e should try and do away with 'imself. If he's been disappointed in love, he ain't told me anything about it."
I suppose that couple o' fools 'ud 'ave stood there talking about me all night if I'd ha' let 'em, but I had about enough of it.
"Look 'ere," I ses, "you're very clever, both of you, but you needn't worry your 'eads about me. I've just been having a mud-bath, that's all."
"A mud-bath!" ses both of 'em, squeaking like a couple o' silly parrots.
"For rheumatics," I ses. "I 'ad it some-thing cruel to-night, and I thought that p'r'aps the mud 'ud do it good. I read about it in the papers. There's places where you pay pounds and pounds for 'em, but, being a pore man, I 'ad to 'ave mine on the cheap."
The policeman stood there looking at me for a moment, and then 'e began to laugh till he couldn't stop 'imself.
"Love-a-duck!" he ses, at last, wiping his eyes. "I wish I'd seen it."
"Must ha' looked like a fat mermaid," ses the landlord, wagging his silly 'ead at me. "I can just see old Bill sitting in the mud a-combing his 'air and singing."
They 'ad some more talk o' that sort, just to show each other 'ow funny they was, but they went off at last, and I fastened up the gate and went into the office to clean myself up as well as I could. One comfort was they 'adn't got the least idea of wot I was arter, and I 'ad a fancy that the one as laughed last would be the one as got that twelve quid.