it."

"Here, take the darned thing!" exclaimed Captain Cai. His action,
however, was less impulsive than his speech: he removed the hat
carefully, lowering his head and clutching the brim between both hands.
A small parcel lay inside.

"What's that?" asked Mr Philp.

"It's--it's a cuff," Captain Cai admitted.

"Belongs to the Widow Bosenna, I shouldn't wonder?" Mr Philp hazarded
with massive gravity. "It's the sort o' thing a woman wears now-a-days
when she've lost her husband. I follows the fashions in my distant
way." He paused and corrected himself carefully--"_Them sort._"

"I thought--it occurred to me--as it might be the handiest way of
returnin' the thing."

"It seems early days to be carryin' that sort of article around in the
crown o' your hat. Dangerous, too, if you use hair-oil. But you don't.
I took notice that you said 'no' yesterday when Toy offered to rub
something into your hair. Now that's always a temptation with me,
there bein' no extra charge. . . . Did she give it to you?"

"Who? . . . Mrs Bosenna? No, she left it behind here."

"When?"

"Yesterday evening."

"What was she doin' here, yesterday evenin', to want to take off her
cuffs?"

"If you must know, she was planting roses."

"What? In April? . . . You mustn't think I'm curious."

"Not at all," Captain Cai agreed grimly.

"Nice little place you've pitched on here, I must say." Mr Philp
changed his tone to one of extreme affability. "There's not a prettier
little nest in all Troy than these two cottages. And which of the pair
might be _your_ choice?"

"It's not quite decided."

"Well, you can't do wrong with either. But"--Mr Philp glanced back
across the roadway and lowered his voice--"I'd like to warn you o' one
thing. I don't know no unhandier houses for gettin' out a corpse.
There's a turn at the foot o' the stairs; most awk'ard."

"I reckon," said Captain Cai cheerfully, "'Bias an' me'll leave that to
them as it concerns. But, man! what a turn you've a-got for funerals!"

"They be the breath o' life to me," Mr Philp confessed, and paused for a
moment's thought. "Tell 'ee what we'll do: you shall come with me down
to Fore Street an' buy yourself a new hat at Shake Benny's: 'tis on your
way to Rilla Farm. There in the shop you can hand me over the one
you're wearin', and Shake can send mine home in a bandbox." He twinkled
cunningly. "I shall be wantin' a bandbox, an' that gets me one
cost-free."

Th