Push, but released
them for want of evidence. In the hospital the bricklayer professed a
complete ignorance of his assailants and their motive. It was
understood that he was too drunk to recognize anyone.

But it was his knowledge of Push methods that sealed his tongue. No
one would risk his skin by giving evidence. If the police had brought
the offenders to book, the magistrates, who seemed to regard these
outrages as the playful excesses of wanton blood, would have let them
off with a light punishment, and the streets would never have been safe
for him again. So he held his tongue, thankful to have escaped so
easily.

But burnt on his brain was the vision of a misshapen devil who struck
at him, with snarling lips, and a desperate flight through avenues of
silent, impassive streets that heard with indifference his cry for
help. In six weeks he was back at work, with no mark of his
misadventure but a broken nose, caused by a clumsy boot.

So the Push took to the streets again, and Jonah resumed his visits to
Cardigan Street on Saturday nights. He had concealed his adventure
with the baby from Ada and her mother, feeling ashamed, as if he had
discovered an unmanly taste for mud pies and dolls. But the imperious
instinct was aroused, and he gratified it in secret, caressing the
child by stealth as a miser runs to his hoard. In the women's presence
he ignored its existence, but he soon discovered that Ada shared none
of his novel sensations. And he grew indignant at her indifference,
feeling that his child was neglected.

Mrs Yabsley, for ever on the alert, felt some change in his manner, and
one Sunday morning received a shock. She was chopping wood in the
yard. She swung the axe with a grunt, and the billet, split in two,
left the axe wedged in the block. As she was wrenching it out, Jonah
dropped his cigarette and cried:

"'Ere, missis, gimme that axe; I niver like ter see a woman chop wood."

She looked at him in amazement. Times without number he had watched
her grunt and sweat without stirring a finger. Bitten with her one
idea, she watched him curiously.

It was the baby that betrayed him at last. Ada was carrying it past
him in furtive haste, when it caught sight of his familiar features.
Jonah, off his guard, smiled. The child laughed joyously, and leaned
out of Ada's arms towards him.

"W'y, wot's the matter, Joe?" cried Mrs Yabsley, all eyes.

Jonah hesitated. Denial was on his tong