THE CITY AND SUBURBAN 341 



" Here you are. Fifteen bob. Satiety for a 

 place." 



" Here you are. Forty-five half-crowns for 

 Garry owen — " 



"Go to blazes with you! " shouted Mr Giveen 

 to the ring of individuals surrounding his tub and 

 demanding their money. " Who are you taking 

 me for? " 



" He's got the bag," shouted one voice. 



"He was with the other chaps," shouted 

 another. 



" Welsher! " cried a third, and at the last cry 

 Mr Giveen was off his tub and being hustled. The 

 bag was plucked from him and opened. 



Then the real business began, and where the 

 poHce came from it would be impossible to say, 

 but they were only in time to save Mr Giveen's 

 shirt and trousers. His coat and waistcoat and 

 hat had vanished utterly and Hke smoke when four 

 stalwart constables surrounded him and began 

 a fight for his life. Several other welshers in the 

 neighbourhood had done their business and got 

 clean away ; the crowd was in a nasty temper, for 

 they had lost over the favourite, and the gods, 

 with a certain poetic justice, had offered up 

 Giveen as a dripping roast to the fury of the 

 people. 



" Pull him in pieces! " 



" Duck him! " (There was not a pond within 

 miles.) 



" Jump on him! " 



