As Chook drove off with Pinkey, she waved her hand to them, and then, surveying the street with the air of a proprietor, entered the shop and took possession.
They were going to Sir Joseph Banks's for the picnic; but, to Pinkey's surprise, the cart turned into Botany Street and pulled up in front of Sarah's cottage.
"Wotcher stoppin' 'ere for ?" she inquired.
"'Cause we're goin' ter git out," said Chook, with a grin.
"Git out?
Wot for?
There's nobody at 'ome, Dad's at work." "I know; that's w'y I came," said Chook, tying the reins to the seat.
"Git down, Liz; yer've got a 'ard day in front of yer." "'Ard day?
Wotcher mean ?" cried Pinkey, suspiciously.
"We're goin' ter move Sarah's furniture to the new 'ouse she found in Surry Hills," replied Chook.
"She never took no 'ouse," said Pinkey.
"No, I took it yesterday in 'er name," said Chook, grinning at Pinkey's perplexed frown.

"I wanted ter give 'er a pleasant surprise fer 'er birthday." "Wot about the picnic ?" exclaimed Pinkey, suddenly.
"There ain't no picnic," said Chook.

"It's next Monday; the date must 'ave slipped me mind." "An' yer mean ter move 'er furniture in without 'er knowin' ?" "That's the dart," said Chook, with a vicious smile.

"If Sarah's tongue don't git a change of air, I'll git three months fer murder.

So 'urry up, Liz, an' put this apron over yer skirt." The impudence of Chook's plan took her breath away, but when he insisted that there was no other way of getting rid of Mrs Partridge, she consented, with the feeling that she was taking part in a burglary.
Chook took the key from under the flower-pot and went in.