The Secret of the Sandhills by Arthur Gask

I went back to the lodging house to get my tea, and as I sat on the bare form at the bare table, along with the other out-at-elbow chaps who were frequenting the place, I chuckled broadly to myself to think how amazed they would have been if they had only known how much money I had under my dirty coat. How their eyes would have opened in amazement if I had pulled out the notes before them. Handfuls and handfuls of fivers, and not a few tens as well. I am sure every man jack of them would have been prepared to take his dying oath that I had stolen them. If anyone there ever became suddenly possessed of money, even in the small way of a pound or two, it was always surmised at once that it had been acquired dishonestly.

We were certainly a queer lot there, and most of us were known by names never given to us by our parents in baptism.