uble _you_," he repeated with some hauteur, "to ketch that boy
of yours a clip on the side of the 'ead. If not, I shall 'ave to do my
duty, according----"

Here the roar of a passing dray drowned his utterance.

The smaller man clambered nimbly out of the hole and proceeded to grab
his young friend by the scruff of the neck.

"Billy," he remarked dispassionately, "this gentleman says as 'ow I'm to
give you a clip on the side of the 'ead."

"Woffor," inquired Billy, simulating extreme terror.

The man passed the question on to the policeman, who explained the
nature of the offence. His statement was voluntarily corroborated by
several members of an audience which seemed to have materialised from
nowhere, and now formed a ring round the encampment.

"Righto!" said the man with cheery acquiescence. "Billy, my lad, you've
got to 'ave it."

"Tha's right, ole son! You give 'im socks," remarked a hoarse and rather
indistinct voice of the gin-and-fog variety, from among the spectators.

Simultaneously its owner lurched his way to the front rank, the others
making room for him with that respectful sympathy, not unmixed with
envy, which is always accorded to a true-born Briton in his condition.
He was obviously a member of some profession connected with coal-dust,
and it was plain that he had been celebrating the conclusion of his
day's labours.

The smaller navvy, thus exhorted, administered the desired clip. It was
not a particularly severe one, but it drew from its recipient the
somewhat unexpected expostulation--

"You silly ass! Not so hard!"

Where had I heard that stentorian but childish voice before? Who was
this road-breaker's acolyte, with his brazier, his dirty face, and--a
public-school accent?

I leaned over the balustrade and surveyed him and his two companions.
Then I drew my breath sharply.

Merciful heavens!

The dirty-faced boy was my brother-in-law, Master Gerald Rubislaw, the
clip-administerer was Dicky Lever, and the gigantic and taciturn navvy
was--my Secretary!

Having witnessed the carrying-out of the sentence, the policeman
returned to his duties; none too soon; for a furniture van and a
butcher's cart, locked in an inextricable embrace, the subject of a
sulphurous duet between their respective proprietors, called loudly for
his attention.

Meanwhile Coaldust, who had been inspecting the result of our friends'
united labours with some interest, suddenly echoed the question which
had