“It’s just a little bit o’ bisness we ’appened to drop on,’ ses Sam, at last, ‘me an’ Peter, and I think that, with luck and management, we’re in a fair way to make our fortunes. Peter, ’ere, ain’t given to looking on the cheerful side o’ things, but ’e thinks so, too.’
“‘I do,’ ses Peter, ‘but it won’t be managed right if you go blabbing it to everybody.’
“‘We must ’ave another man in it, Peter,’ ses Sam; ‘and, wot’s more, ’e must ’ave ginger-coloured ’air. That being so, it’s only right and proper that our dear old pal Ginger should ’ave the fust offer.’
“It wasn’t often that Sam was so affeckshunate, and Ginger couldn’t make it out at all. Ever since ’e’d known ’im the old man ’ad been full o’ plans o’ making money without earning it. Stupid plans they was, too, but the stupider they was the more old Sam liked ’em.
“‘Well, wot is it?’ asks Ginger, agin.
“Old Sam walked over to the door and shut it; then ’e sat down on the bed and spoke low so that Ginger could hardly ’ear ’im.
“‘A little public-’ouse,’ he ses, ‘to say nothing of ’ouse properly, and a red-’aired old landlady wot’s a widder. As nice a old lady as any one could wish for, for a mother.’
“For a mother!’ ses Ginger, staring:
“‘And a lovely barmaid with blue eyes and yellow ’air, wot ’ud be the red-’edded man’s cousin,’ ses Peter Russet.
“‘Look ’ere,’ ses Ginger, ‘are you going to tell me in plain English wot it’s all about, or are you not?’