CHAPTER VIII.

GUS' NEW FRIENDS.

GUS saw much of Lucas and his daughter in the days that followed. He was often invited into their room, and the man showed much interest in him. Sometimes Lucas would pat Gus on the back, and tell him he was a smart fellow, and he would make a man of him. Lucy, too, was kind to him, but she was very sad and quiet. Gus supposed it was being so weak and lame made her sad.

The boy saw and heard many things when he was with them which made him wonder. He noticed that though Lucas had no regular employment, he was never without money. He would speak to the neighbours of the bad times; but their badness seemed in no way to affect his comfort. His food was of the best; he had dainties on his table that were to be seen on no other in Lavender Terrace. He told Gus that he bought them for Lucy's sake, whose appetite required much tempting; but the fact remained that he had the power to spend money as none of his neighbours could. Certainly he had not the fatal weakness which had dragged Gus' father down into the lowest depths of misery. He never drank to excess. Some beer with his meals and an occasional glass of spirits was all he took. But the spirit was of the best quality, as was also the tobacco which he smoked.

"A gentleman could not have better, Gentleman Gus," he said one day to the boy, when he was in a merry mood.

"Gentleman Gus indeed!" snarled Jack, with a contemptuous glance at him.

"You hold your tongue!" cried his father. "I tell you he shall be a gentleman.

"You do as I tell you, my lad," he added, patting Gus on the shoulder, "and I'll make a gentleman of you."

Gus' colour rose with pleasure. He had no doubt Lucas could help him to be a gentleman, for the man was in many respects different from the other men who dwelt at Lavender Terrace.

But Jack scowled more darkly than before, and muttered something the boy could not understand. Gus was no favourite with him.

A few days later, Lucas invited Gus to come for a tramp with him and his son. Gus felt honoured by the invitation, and gladly accepted.

They started early in the afternoon. Lucas carried his workman's bag, so Gus concluded he was going in search of employment. They walked a long way in a Westerly direction from Glensford, passing through one suburb of London after another. They did not go to the shops, as Gus expected.

Lucas seemed more interested in the large handsome houses they passed—houses standing by themselves in gardens, and in which only rich people could dwell. The amount of curiosity concerning these which he displayed was something astonishing. Now he would steal along a shrubbery to get a nearer view, or swing himself lightly to the top of a wall. Gus saw with admiration how quick and nimble Lucas and his son were in their movements. He wished he could climb as well. Even a tall spiked fence seemed to offer them no obstacle if they wished to get to the other side. As they went on they talked to each other in a jargon Gus could not understand, but he could see they were not of one mind, and that Jack was out of temper with his father.

At last, when the sun was sinking low in the west, and Gus was growing very weary, Lucas said, as they approached some shops—

"Come, little chap, you're getting tired and hungry, I can see. You go to that shop and get yourself a glass of milk and a good big bun. Jack and I'll go on to the next pub, and you can come to us there; but I know it's no good asking you to take a drink of beer. And you're right, my little lad. Drink steals a man's brains, and he who muddles his head with it, can never succeed in business which requires keen wits. Now go and get your grub, and then come on to us."

As he spoke he handed Gus a bright two-shilling piece, bidding him bring back the change correctly. Gus thanked him, and ran off.

The woman in charge of the confectioner's shop looked coldly at the very ragged little boy who came in and asked for a glass of milk and a bun.

"Can you pay for it?" she demanded.

Gus promptly handed her the two-shilling piece. She looked at it suspiciously, then threw it on the counter. The sound it made seemed to confirm her suspicion. She looked at it once more, then gave it back to Gus.

"That is not good money," she said; "where did you get it?"

"Mr. Lucas gave it to me."

"And who is Mr. Lucas?"

"He's a friend of mine," said Gus; "but what do you mean about the money?"

"I mean that it's a bad florin; one that never came from the Mint. There's been a good many of them about lately. I was deceived by one once, but I shall not be again. Come, if that's all the money you've got to pay with, you'd best be off."

"I'll tell Mr. Lucas," said Gus, turning away disappointed; "I'm sure he did not know it was bad money."

"I daresay!" said the woman. "That's a likely story. Where's this Mr. Lucas that you talk about?"

"He's close by—just a little further along the road," said Gus.

The woman followed him to the door, her looks full of suspicion. It is so easy to believe the worst of those in whose appearance poverty is conspicuous. She looked up and down the road, but saw no man.

"You good-for-nothing young scamp!" she cried. "Don't come here with your false coin and your lies again. Be off with you, quick, or I'll give you to the police!"

Gus was bewildered. He had not been in the shop more than a minute, he could not understand how Lucas and his son had got so quickly out of sight.

"They were going to the public-house," he said.

"There's no public-house just here," said the woman, "and I can tell you this is not the place for you or your friends—if you have any. We're honest people here. Come, be off with you, or I'll call a policeman!"

Gus moved away feeling much disturbed. He could not bear to think that the woman looked upon him as a cheat, for he had been trained to strict honesty, and, in spite of what Dick had said, he was convinced that a gentleman should always act on the square. He walked on in the direction Lucas and his son had taken, wondering what had become of them. When he had gone a little distance they suddenly appeared before him, springing over a fence that skirted some fields.

"Well, boy, have you got my change?" asked Lucas.

Jack burst into a roar of laughter as Gus told his story, ending with the words, "I told her I was sure you did not know it was bad money."

Lucas laughed too for a moment, but seeing Gus' troubled look, he checked himself.

"Never mind, lad," he said, "you've done your best. I mean you could not help it, if the woman would have it, it was bad money."

"Wasn't it?" asked Gus eagerly.

"Of course it wasn't bad money," replied Lucas, laughing; "it was good money—very good money indeed."

Something in his manner made Gus uneasy. He began to be troubled with doubts concerning his new friends.

"Didn't I tell you?" cried Jack, turning to his father. "Didn't I tell you he was too green for anything?"

"Never you mind," returned the other; "he'll be all right by-and-by. Here, Gus, take this penny; you shall not lose your bun. There's another shop a little further on, and meanwhile here's our pub."