Ships Company | Page 7

said the landlord. "They ought to know;
then p'r'aps one of them'll tell her. It's what they're paid for."
"It's so awfully sudden. I don't know where I am 'ardly," said Mr. Kidd.
"I don't believe she's got a penny-piece in the 'ouse. Pore Joe 'ad a lot o'
pals. I wonder whether we could'nt get up something for her."
"Go round and tell the police first," said the landlord, pursing up his
lips thoughtfully. "We can talk about that later on."
Mr. Kidd thanked him warmly and withdrew, accompanied by Mr.
Brown. Twenty minutes later they left the station, considerably relieved
at the matter-of-fact way in which the police had received the tidings,
and, hurrying across London Bridge, made their way towards a small
figure supporting its back against a post in the Borough market.
"Well?" said Mr. Gibbs, snappishly, as he turned at the sound of their
footsteps.
"It'll be all right, Joe," said Mr. Kidd. "We've sowed the seed."
"Sowed the wot?" demanded the other.
Mr. Kidd explained.
"Ho!" said Mr. Gibbs. "An' while your precious seed is a-coming up,
wot am I to do? Wot about my comfortable 'ome? Wot about my bed
and grub?"
His two friends looked at each other uneasily. In the excitement of the
arrangements they had for gotten these things, and a long and
sometimes painful experience of Mr. Gibbs showed them only too
plainly where they were drifting.
"You'll 'ave to get a bed this side o' the river somewhere," said Mr.
Brown, slowly. "Coffee-shop or something; and a smart, active man
wot keeps his eyes open can always pick up a little money."

Mr. Gibbs laughed.
"And mind," said Mr. Kidd, furiously, in reply to the laugh, "anything
we lend you is to be paid back out of your half when you get it. And,
wot's more, you don't get a ha'penny till you've come into a barber's
shop and 'ad them whiskers off. We don't want no accidents."
Mr. Gibbs, with his back against the post, fought for his whiskers for
nearly half an hour, and at the end of that time was led into a barber's,
and in a state of sullen indignation proffered his request for a "clean"
shave. He gazed at the bare-faced creature that confronted him in the
glass after the operation in open-eyed consternation, and Messrs. Kidd
and Brown's politeness easily gave way before their astonishment.
"Well, I may as well have a 'air-cut while I'm here," said Mr. Gibbs,
after a lengthy survey.
"And a shampoo, sir?" said the assistant.
"Just as you like," said Mr. Gibbs, turning a deaf ear to the frenzied
expostulations of his financial backers. "Wot is it?"
[Illustration: Mr. Gibbs, with his back against the post, fought for
nearly half an hour]
He sat in amazed discomfort during the operation, and emerging with
his friends remarked that he felt half a stone lighter. The information
was received in stony silence, and, having spent some time in the
selection, they found a quiet public-house, and in a retired corner
formed themselves into a Committee of Ways and Means.
"That'll do for you to go on with," said Mr. Kidd, after he and Mr.
Brown had each made a contribution; "and, mind, it's coming off of
your share."
Mr. Gibbs nodded. "And any evening you want to see me you'll find
me in here," he remarked. "Beer's ripping. Now you'd better go and see
my old woman."

The two friends departed, and, to their great relief, found a little knot of
people outside the abode of Mrs. Gibbs. It was clear that the news had
been already broken, and, pushing their way upstairs, they found the
widow with a damp handkerchief in her hand surrounded by attentive
friends. In feeble accents she thanked Mr. Kidd for his noble attempts
at rescue.
"He ain't dry yet," said Mr. Brown.
"I done wot I could," said Mr. Kidd, simply. "Pore Joe! Nobody could
ha' had a better pal. Nobody!"
"Always ready to lend a helping 'and to them as was in trouble, he
was," said Mr. Brown, looking round.
"'Ear, 'ear!" said a voice.
"And we'll lend 'im a helping 'and," said Mr. Kidd, energetically. "We
can't do 'im no good, pore chap, but we can try and do something for 'er
as is left behind."
He moved slowly to the door, accompanied by Mr. Brown, and
catching the eye of one or two of the men beckoned them to follow.
Under his able guidance a small but gradually increasing crowd made
its way to the "Red Lion." For the next three or four days the friends
worked unceasingly. Cards stating that a Friendly Lead would be held
at the "Red Lion," for the benefit of the widow of the late Mr. Joseph