The Third String

by W. W. Jacobs

change in any man as there was in 'im after Bill 'ad done with'im. I couldn't believe it was 'im. I told Bill he ought to be ashamedof 'imself."

  "Wot did 'e say?" asks Ginger.

  "Don't ask me wot 'e said," ses Miss Tucker, tossing her 'ead. "Notliking to be beat, I 'ad one more try with a young fellow named CharlieWebb."

  "Wot 'appened to 'im?" ses Peter Russet, arter waiting a bit for 'er tofinish.

  "I can't bear to talk of it," ses Miss Tucker, holding up Ginger's glassand giving the counter a wipe down. "He met Bill, and I saw 'im sixweeks afterward just as 'e was being sent away from the 'ospital to aseaside home. Bill disappeared after that."

  "Has he gone far away?" ses Ginger, trying to speak in a off-'and way.

  "Oh, he's back now," ses Miss Tucker. "You'll see 'im fast enough, and,wotever you do, don't let 'im know you're a prize-fighter."

  "Why not?" ses pore Ginger.

  "Because o' the surprise it'll be to 'im," ses Miss Tucker. "Let 'imrush on to 'is doom. He'll get a lesson 'e don't expect, the bully.Don't be afraid of 'urting 'im. Think o' pore Smith and Charlie Webb."

  "I am thinkin' of 'em," ses Ginger, slow-like. "Is--is Bill--very quick--with his 'ands?"

  "Rather," ses Miss Tucker; "but o' course he ain't up to your mark; he'son'y known in these parts."

  She went off to serve a customer, and Ginger Dick tried to catch Peter'seye, but couldn't, and when Miss Tucker came back he said 'e must begoing.

  "Sunday afternoon at a quarter past three sharp, outside 'ere," she ses."Never mind about putting on your best clothes, because Bill is sure tobe hanging about. I'll take care o' that."

  She reached over the bar and shook 'ands with 'im, and Ginger felt athrill go up 'is arm which lasted 'im all the way 'ome.

  He didn't know whether to turn up on Sunday or not, and if it 'adn't ha'been for Sam and Peter Russet he'd ha' most likely stayed at home. Notthat 'e was a coward, being always ready for a scrap and gin'rallyspeaking doing well at it, but he made a few inquiries about Bill Lummand 'e saw that 'e had about as much chance with 'im as a kitten would'ave with a bulldog.

  Sam and Peter was delighted, and they talked about it as if it was apantermime, and old Sam said that when he was a young man he'd ha' foughtsix Bill Lumms afore he'd ha' given a gal up. He brushed Ginger'sclothes for 'im with 'is own hands on Sunday afternoon, and, when Gingerstarted, 'im and Peter follered some distance behind to see fair play.

  The on'y person outside the Jolly Pilots when Ginger got there was a man;a strong-built chap with a thick neck, very large 'ands, and a nose which'ad seen its best days some time afore. He looked 'ard at Ginger as 'ecame up, and then stuck his 'ands in 'is trouser pockets and spat on thepavement. Ginger walked a little way past and then back agin, and justas he was thinking that 'e might venture to go off, as Miss Tucker 'adn'tcome, the door opened and out she came.

  "I couldn't find my 'at-pins," she ses, taking Ginger's arm and smilingup into 'is face.

  Before Ginger could say anything the man he 'ad noticed took his 'andsout of 'is pockets and stepped up to 'im.

  "Let go o' that young lady's arm," he ses. "Sha'n't," ses Ginger,holding it so tight that Miss Tucker nearly screamed.

  "Let go 'er arm and put your 'ands up," ses the chap agin.

  "'Let go o' that young lady's arm,' he ses."]

  "Not 'ere," ses Ginger, who 'ad laid awake the night afore thinking wotto do if he met Bill Lumm. "If you wish to 'ave a spar with me, my lad,you must 'ave it where we can't be interrupted. When I start on a man Ilike to make a good job of it."

  "Good job of it!" ses the other, starting. "Do you know who I am?"

  "No, I don't," ses Ginger, "and, wot's more, I don't care."

  "My name," ses the chap, speaking in a slow, careful voice, "is BillLumm."

  "Wot a 'orrid name!" ses Ginger.

  "Otherwise known as the Wapping Basher," ses Bill, shoving 'is face intoGinger's and glaring at 'im.

  "Ho!" ses Ginger, sniffing, "a amatoor."

  "_Amatoor?_" ses Bill, shouting.

  "That's wot we should call you over in Australia," ses Ginger; "my nameis Dick Duster, likewise known as the Sydney Puncher. I've killed threemen in the ring and 'ave never 'ad a defeat."

  "Well, put 'em up," ses Bill, doubling up 'is fists and shaping at 'im.

  "Not in the street, I tell you," ses Ginger, still clinging tight to MissTucker's arm. "I was fined five pounds the other day for punching a manin the street, and the magistrate said it would be 'ard labour for menext time. You find a nice, quiet spot for some arternoon, and I'llknock your 'ead off with pleasure."

  "I'd sooner 'ave it knocked off now," ses Bill; "I don't like waiting forthings."

  "Thursday arternoon," ses Ginger, very firm; "there's one or twogentlemen want to see a bit o' my work afore backing me, and we cancombine bisness with pleasure."

  He walked off with Miss Tucker, leaving Bill Lumm standing on thepavement scratching his 'ead and staring arter 'im as though 'e didn'tquite know wot to make of it. Bill stood there for pretty near fiveminutes, and then arter asking Sam and Peter, who 'ad been standing bylistening, whether they wanted anything for themselves, walked off to ask'is pals wot they knew about the Sydney Puncher.

  Ginger Dick was so quiet and satisfied about the fight that old Sam andPeter couldn't make 'im out at all. He wouldn't even practise punchingat a bolster that Peter rigged up for 'im, and when 'e got a message fromBill Lumm naming a quiet place on the Lea Marshes he agreed to it ascomfortable as possible.

  "Well, I must say, Ginger, that I like your pluck," ses Peter Russet.

  "I always 'ave said that for Ginger; 'e's got pluck," ses Sam.

  Ginger coughed and tried to smile at 'em in a superior sort o' way. "Ithought you'd got more sense," he ses, at last. "You don't think I'mgoing, do you?"

  "Wot?" ses old Sam, in a shocked voice.

  "You're never going to back out of it, Ginger?" ses Peter.

  "I am," ses Ginger. "If you think I'm going to be smashed up by aprize-fighter just to show my pluck you're mistook."

  "You must go, Ginger," ses old Sam, very severe. "It's too late to backout of it now. Think of the gal. Think of 'er feelings."

  "For the sake of your good name," ses Peter.

  "I should never speak to you agin, Ginger," ses old Sam, pursing up 'islips.

  "Nor me neither," ses Peter Russet.

  "To think of our Ginger being called a coward," ses old Sam, with ashudder, "and afore a gal, too."

  "The loveliest gal in Wapping," ses Peter.

  "Look 'ere," ses Ginger, "you can shut up, both of you. I'm not going,and that's the long and short of it. I don't mind an ordinary man, but Idraw the line at prize-fighters."

  Old Sam sat down on the edge of 'is bed and looked the picture ofdespair. "You must go, Ginger," he ses, "for my sake."

  "Your sake?" ses Ginger, staring.

  "I've got money on it," ses Sam, "so's Peter. If you don't turn up allbets'll be off."

  "Good job for you, too," ses Ginger. "If I did turn up you'd lose it, toa dead certainty."

  Old Sam coughed and looked at Peter, and Peter 'e coughed and looked atSam.

  "You don't understand, Ginger," said Sam, in a soft voice; "it ain'toften a chap gets the chance o' making a bit o' money these 'ard times."

  "So we've put all our money on Bill Lumm," ses Peter. "It's the safestand easiest way o' making money I ever 'eard of. You see, we know you'renot a prize-fighter and the others don't."

  Pore Ginger looked at 'em, and then 'e called 'em all the names he couldlay 'is tongue to, but, with the idea o' the money they was going make,they didn't mind a bit. They let