he
door.

"No," ses Sam, staring.

"'Cos I know a place where they sell the best glass o' port wine in
London," ses the man.

He took Sam up two or three turnings, and then led him into a quiet
little pub in a back street. There was a cosy little saloon bar with
nobody in it, and, arter Sam had 'ad two port wines for the look of the
thing, he 'ad a pint o' six-ale because he liked it. His new pal had one
too, and he 'ad just taken a pull at it and wiped his mouth, when 'e
noticed a little bill pinned up at the back of the bar.

"_Lost, between--the Mint and--Tower Stairs,_" he ses, leaning forward
and reading very slow, "_a gold--locket--set with--diamonds. Whoever
will--return--the same to--Mr. Smith--Orange Villa--Barnet--will receive
--thirty pounds--reward."

"'Ow much?" ses Sam, starting. "Thirty pounds," ses the man. "Must be a
good locket. Where'd you get that?" he ses, turning to the barmaid.

"Gentleman came in an hour ago," ses the gal, "and, arter he had 'ad two
or three drinks with the guv'nor, he asks 'im to stick it up. 'Arf
crying he was--said 'it 'ad belonged to his old woman wot died."

She went off to serve a customer at the other end of the bar wot was
making little dents in it with his pot, and the man came back and sat
down by Sam agin, and began to talk about horse-racing. At least, he
tried to, but Sam couldn't talk of nothing but that locket, and wot a
nice steady sailorman could do with thirty pounds.

"Well, p'r'aps you'll find it," ses the man, chaffing-like. "'Ave
another pint."

Sam had one, but it only made 'im more solemn, and he got in quite a
temper as 'e spoke about casuals loafing about on Tower Hill with their
'ands in their pockets, and taking gold lockets out of the mouths of
hard-working sailormen.

"It mightn't be found yet," ses the man, speaking thoughtful-like. "It's
wonderful how long a thing'll lay sometimes. Wot about going and 'aving
a look for it?"

Sam shook his 'ead at fust, but arter turning the thing over in his mind,
and 'aving another look at the bill, and copying down the name and
address for luck, 'e said p'r'aps they might as well walk that way as
anywhere else.

"Something seems to tell me we've got a chance," ses the man, as they
stepped outside.

"It's a funny feeling and I can't explain it, but it always means good
luck. Last time I had it an aunt o' mine swallered 'er false teeth and
left me five 'undred pounds."

"There's aun