he
cried, "who's this?"

"Only a little philanthropic do of mine--burglar I'm trying to reform.
Caught him under my bed just now. He's all right. He's a frightful ass.
He'll be useful to carry some of our things."

The newcomer seemed inclined to resent Mr. Ledbetter's presence at
first, but the stout man reassured him.

"He's quite alone. There's not a gang in the world would own him.
No!--don't start talking, for goodness' sake."

They went out into the darkness of the garden with the trunk still
bowing Mr. Ledbetter's shoulders. The man in the yachting costume walked
in front with the Gladstone bag and a pistol; then came Mr. Ledbetter
like Atlas; Mr. Bingham followed with the hat-box, coat, and revolver as
before. The house was one of those that have their gardens right up to
the cliff. At the cliff was a steep wooden stairway, descending to a
bathing tent dimly visible on the beach. Below was a boat pulled up, and
a silent little man with a black face stood beside it. "A few moments'
explanation," said Mr. Ledbetter; "I can assure you--" Somebody kicked
him, and he said no more.

They made him wade to the boat, carrying the trunk, they pulled him
aboard by the shoulders and hair, they called him no better name than
"scoundrel" and "burglar" all that night. But they spoke in undertones
so that the general public was happily unaware of his ignominy. They
hauled him aboard a yacht manned by strange, unsympathetic Orientals,
and partly they thrust him and partly he fell down a gangway into a
noisome, dark place, where he was to remain many days--how many he does
not know, because he lost count among other things when he was seasick.
They fed him on biscuits and incomprehensible words; they gave him water
to drink mixed with unwished-for rum. And there were cockroaches
where they put him, night and day there were cockroaches, and in the
night-time there were rats. The Orientals emptied his pockets and took
his watch--but Mr. Bingham, being appealed to, took that himself.
And five or six times the five Lascars--if they were Lascars--and the
Chinaman and the negro who constituted the crew, fished him out and
took him aft to Bingham and his friend to play cribbage and euchre and
three-anded whist, and to listen to their stories and boastings in an
interested manner.

Then these principals would talk to him as men talk to those who have
lived a life of crime. Explanations they would never permit, though they
made it