"I shall turn it over in my mind," ses Sam, sucking 'is teeth. "When I
want your advice I'll ask you for it."
"We wasn't thinking of you," ses Ginger; "we was thinking of ourselves."
"You!" ses Sam, with a bit of a start. "Wot's it got to do with you?"
"Our share'll be bigger, that's all," ses Ginger.
"Much bigger," ses Peter. "I couldn't dream of letting it go at thirty.
It's chucking money away. Why, we might get _two_ 'undred for it. Who
knows?"
Sam sat on the edge of 'is bed like a man in a dream, then 'e began to
make a noise like a cat with a fish-bone in its throat, and then 'e stood
up and let fly.
"Don't stop 'im, Peter," ses Ginger. "Let 'im go on; it'll do him good."
"He's forgot all about that penknife you picked up and went shares in,"
ses Peter. "I wouldn't be mean for _twenty_ lockets."
"Nor me neither," ses Ginger. "But we won't let 'im be mean--for 'is own
sake. We'll 'ave our rights."
"Rights!" ses Sam. "Rights! You didn't find it."
"We always go shares if we find anything," ses Ginger.
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