railway-bridge. A ragged object, asleep on the towing-path, woke up as the boat grounded, and mechanically scratched itself.
"'IS THAT BETTER?' HE SHOUTED" (p. 395).
"Mind the boat for yer, guv'nor?"
He looked like a tramp. From his obviously impecunious condition he was not likely to be overburdened with scruples.
"Yes; but find me a cab first, and bring it as near as you can."
As the man, scenting a tip, rose with alacrity, Pringle tumbled the box on to the shingle. It now showed little trace of its adventures, was already dry upon the surface, and, clear of the markings, bore an innocent resemblance to a box of ship's cocoa.
It was nearing seven when the emissary returned.
"Keb waitin' for yer up the road by the corner there," he reported.
"Give us a hand with this box, then," said Pringle. "It's quartz, and rather heavy."
"Why, but it's that!" ejaculated the man as he lifted one end with an unwonted expenditure of muscular force.
"Now, look here," said Pringle impressively, as they reached the cab. "I shall be back about noon, and I want you to look after the boat for me till then. That will be five hours—suppose we say at two shillings each?"
The tramp's eyes glistened, and he touched his cap-peak.
"Well, here's half a sovereign." Pringle shrewdly discounted the unlikelihood of the man's rendering any part of the service for which he was being paid in advance.
"Right yer are, guv'nor,” agreed the tramp cheerfully, and slipped towards the river-bank.
The cab, with Pringle and the box inside, had scarcely disappeared round the corner when the tramp made off at a tangent towards Kew, and was seen no more. As to the boat, with a dip and a rock as the tide rose, it floated off into the stream, and resumed its travels in the opposite direction.
