"He went out and 'ad a steak and onions and a pint o' beer, but, although he kept looking up sudden from 'is plate, he didn't see Peter or Ginger. It spoilt 'is dinner a bit, but arter he got outside 'e saw them standing at the corner, and, pretending not to see them, he went off for a walk down the Mile End Road.
"He walked as far as Bow with them follering'im, and then he jumped on a bus and rode back as far as Whitechapel. There was no sign of 'em when he got off, and, feeling a bit lonesome, he stood about looking in shop- windows until 'e see them coming along as hard as they could come.
"'Why, halloa!' he ses. 'Where did you spring from?'
"'We—we—we've been—for a bit of a walk,' ses Ginger Dick, puffing and blowing like a grampus.
"'To-keep down the 'unger,' ses Peter Russet.
"Old Sam looked at 'em very stern for a moment, then he beckoned 'em to foller 'im, and, stopping at a little public-'ouse, he went in and ordered a pint o' bitter.
"'And give them two pore fellers a crust o' bread and cheese and 'arf-a- pint of four ale each,' he ses to the barmaid.
"Ginger and Peter looked at each other, but they was so hungry they didn't say a word; they just stood waiting.
"'Put that inside you my pore fellers,' ses Sam, with a oily smile. 'I can't bear to see people suffering for want o' food,' he ses to the barmaid, as he chucked down a sovereign on the counter.
"The barmaid, a very nice gal with black 'air and her fingers covered all over with rings, said that it did 'im credit, and they stood there talking about tramps and beggars and such-like till Peter and Ginger nearly choked. He stood there watching 'em and smoking a threepenny cigar, and when they 'ad finished he told the barmaid to give 'em a sausage-roll each, and went off.