ntered the name
and address of each correspondent, the date of their letters, the goods
they ordered, and the amount they enclosed, and before the day was over
the list had grown to a startling extent.

The next day brought a similar number of applications and remittances as
to the globes and blackboards, and of course some more also about the
clerical suits. And so, from day to day, the post showered letters in
at the door, and the secretary of the Select Agency Corporation was one
of the hardest worked men in Liverpool.

Master Love meanwhile had very little time for his "penny dreadfuls,"
and complained bitterly of his hardships. And indeed he looked so pale
and unhealthy that Reginald began to fear the constant "licking" was
undermining his constitution, and ordered him to use a sponge instead of
his tongue. But on this point Love's loyalty made a stand. Nothing
would induce him to use the artificial expedient. He deliberately made
away with the sponge, and after a battle royal was allowed his own way,
and continued to lick till his tongue literally clave to the roof of his
mouth.

By the end of a fortnight the first rush of work was over, and Reginald
and his henchman had time to draw breath. Mr Medlock had gone to
London, presumably to superintend the dispatch of the various articles
ordered.

It was about this time that Reginald had written home to Horace
complaining of the dulness of his life, and begging him to repay
Blandford the 6 shillings 6 pence, which had been weighing like lead on
his mind ever since he left town, and which he now despaired of ever
being able to spare out of the slender pittance on which he was doomed
to subsist till Christmas. Happily that festive season was only a few
weeks away now, and then how delighted he should be to send home a round
half of his income, and convince himself he was after all a main prop to
that dear distant little household.

Had he been gifted with ears sharp enough to catch a conversation that
took place at the Bodega in London one evening about the same time, the
Christmas spirit within him might have experienced a considerable chill.

The company consisted of Mr Medlock, Mr Shanklin, and Mr Durfy. The
latter was present by sufferance, not because he was wanted or invited,
but because he felt inclined for a good supper, and was sharp enough to
know that neither of his employers could afford to fall out with him
just then.

"Well, how goes it?"