him.

"That conductor was a sensible chap," he exclaimed. "Glad I tipped him.
Hullo!"

The station-master, in uniform, came hurrying out. The young Englishman
took off his hat, and produced a phrase book from his pocket. He ignored
the stream of words which the station-master, with many gesticulations,
was already pouring out.

"My luggage," he said firmly, laying one hand upon the pile, and waving
the phrase book.

The station-master acquiesced heartily. He waxed eloquent again, but the
Englishman was busy with the phrase book.

"Hungry! Hotel?" he attempted.

The station-master pointed to where the smoke was curling upwards from a
score or so of houses about half a mile distant. The Englishman was
getting pleased with himself. Outside was a weird-looking carriage, and
on the box seat, fast asleep, was a very fat man in a shiny hat,
ornamented by a bunch of feathers. He pointed to the luggage, then to
the cab, and finally to the village.

"Luggage, hotel, carriage!" he suggested.

The station-master beamed all over. With a shout, which must have
reached the village, he awakened the sleeping man. In less than five
minutes the Englishman and his luggage were stored away in the carriage.
His ticket had been examined by the station-master, and smilingly
accepted. There were more bows and salutes, and the carriage drove off.
Mr. Guy Poynton leaned back amongst the mouldy leather upholstery, and
smiled complacently.

"Easiest thing in the world to get on in a foreign country with a phrase
book and your wits," he remarked to himself. "Jove, I am hungry!"

He drove into a village of half a dozen houses or so, which reminded him
of the pictured abodes of Noah and his brethren. An astonished
innkeeper, whose morning attire apparently consisted of trousers, shirt,
and spectacles, ushered him into a bare room with a trestle table. Guy
produced his phrase book.

"Hungry!" he said vociferously. "Want to eat! Coffee!"

The man appeared to understand, but in case there should have been any
mistake Guy followed him into the kitchen. The driver, who had lost no
time, was already there, with a long glass of beer before him. Guy
produced a mark, laid it on the table, touched himself, the innkeeper,
and the driver, and pointed to the beer. The innkeeper understood, and
the beer was good.

The driver, who had been of course ludicrously over-paid, settled down
in his corner, and announced his intention of seeing through to