"Here's a gent with a portmantle," whispered Benny to his sister. "I'll try my luck! Foller me, Nell, as quick as you can." And off he darted across the street.
"Carry yer bag, sir?" he said, stepping in front of the gentleman; and there was something very appealing in his tone as he spoke.
The gentleman looked kindly down into the two honest-looking eyes that flashed in the gaslight.
"What will you take the bag to the ferry for?" he inquired.
"For what you please to give," said Benny sturdily. "Times is bad at present, and little chaps like us is glad to *ave what we catches."
"Oh, that's it, is it? But I'm afraid this bag is too heavy for you."
"Oh, never fear," said Benny, as he got hold of the portmanteau. "I's 'mazing strong, and I ken carry this like winkin'." And he trotted down the street before the gentleman in a way that showed he was in earnest about the matter.
The gentleman looked after the little fellow with an amused smile, but volunteered no further remark.
Meanwhile little Nelly, who had become stiff and cramped with cold, followed at a little distance, taking care, however, that Benny did not get out of her sight. On reaching the bridge that led down to the landing-stage, Benny turned round, and, seeing his sister behind, shouted back,
"Stay here, Nell, till I come back—I'll be no time
