"What have you got there Tiny?" one of the toughs asked.
"Nothing, nothing!" said Tiny. All the way into market, he'd been carrying the very generous five shillings in his hands, almost in plain view.
"I don't think so," said another one of the teenagers, "give it here!"
Tiny backed away.
"I SAID..."
*WHUMP!!*
Tiny tripped back and bumped into another policeman.
"Here bobby!" one of the toughs shouted, "that kid done pinched my money!"
"I didn't!" Tiny said, "it's mine!"
"He pickpockted me!" said another one of the toughs, "I can prove it!"
"You don't even know how much money I have!" Tiny shouted.
"Here now..." said the constable, "show me the money."
Tiny opened his hands. The constable counted the five shillings.
"Where did you get this?"
"Mr. Hartship that runs the orphanage, constable, he gave them to me!"
"Prove it," the constable snorted.
"He's at the police-station at the end of the street answering questions sir. He'll tell you he gave me the money."
The constable nodded. "Go on!" he said, he gave the boy a shove. "And you!" he pointed his truncheon at the toughs, "you leave that lad alone! If I find stuff like this happening on my beat again, I'll book you all in for disturbance of the peace!"
******
Tiny and his four fellow orphan friends finally made it to the market. Vegetables, fruit, meat, baked goods, everyone was shouting and talking. The five boys walked down the middle of the street, a shilling each, in their hands. Hansom cabs and traps and Growlers rattled past.
"TOMATOES, POTATOES AND LETTUCE! Thripence a bag!"
"Pound bags of flour for tuppence or a fifty pound bag for a shilling!"
"Confectionaries! Toffee, chocolates, mint candies! Special boxes of chocolates for the special lady!...Oh hello!"
The proprietor of the candy-store smiled kindly at the five youths who stood in front of his store.
"What do you want, then?" he asked.
"A shilling of chocolate fudge,"
"A shilling of mints,"
"And a shilling of butterscotch toffee!"
"I want a tin of hard candies!"
"Five bottles of lemonade, please!"
"Where's your money?" the man asked. The five boys held out their hands. The old man nodded. He put the stuff on the counter and took the money. He opened a protable icebox at his feet and pulled out five bottles of lemonade. "There you go, my boys...and here's your change."
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