y back to
Africa."

There was no resisting this. The poor invalid submitted with a faint
smile, and his brother returned to the shop.

"It's unsatisfactory, to say the least of it," murmured Mr Blurt as he
relieved guard and sat down again on the high stool. "To solicit trade
and to be unable to meet the demand when it comes is a very false
position. Yet I begin to wish that somebody would come in for
something--just for a change."

It seemed as if somebody had heard his wish expressed, for at that
moment a man entered the shop. He was a tall, powerful man. Mr Blurt
had just begun to wonder what particular branch of the business he was
going to be puzzled with, when he recognised the man as his friend
George Aspel.

Leaping from his stool and seizing Aspel by the hand, Mr Blurt gave him
a greeting so hearty that two street boys who chanced to pass and saw
the beginning of it exclaimed, "Go it, old 'un!" and waited for more.
But Aspel shut the door in their faces, which induced them to deliver
uncomplimentary remarks through the keyhole, and make unutterable eyes
at the owl in the window ere they went the even tenor of their way.

Kind and hearty though the greeting was, it did not seem to put the
youth quite at his ease, and there was a something in his air and manner
which struck Mr Blurt immediately.

"Why, you've hurt your face, Mr Aspel," he exclaimed, turning his
friend to the light. "And--and--you've had your coat torn and mended as
if--"

"Yes, Mr Blurt," said Aspel, suddenly recovering something of his
wonted bold and hearty manner; "I have been in bad company, you see, and
had to fight my way out of it. London is a more difficult and dangerous
place to get on in than I had imagined at first."

"I suppose it is, though I can't speak from much experience," said Mr
Blurt. "But come, sit down. Here's a high stool for you. I'll sit on
the counter. Now, let's hear about your adventures or misadventures.
How did you come to grief?"

"Simply enough," replied Aspel, with an attempt to look indifferent and
easy, in which he was only half-successful "I went into a music-hall one
night and got into a row with a drunk man who insulted me. That's how I
came by my damaged face. Then about two weeks ago a fellow picked my
pocket. I chased him down into one of his haunts, and caught him, but
was set upon by half a dozen scoundrels who overpowered me. They will
carry some of my marks, however, for many