vin' a lark with me," he said.

"No, I'm not. You really may do it."

"Ain't a-goin' to do it," replied he, decisively.

"Why not?" I asked.

"T'other bloke ain't said I'm to do it," replied he.

"Well," said I, "if you don't think he'd like it, don't do it. For I'm
sure he's very good to you, Billy, isn't he?"

"'Tain't no concern of yourn," responded my genial guardian.

After this there was a long silence, and I was getting drowsy, when
Billy said, "That there 'orse was a-goin' it."

"What horse?"

"Why, as if you didn't know! That there 'orse as was drivin' you blokes
a' Monday night."

"What, did you see us, then?" I asked.

"In corse I did. I seen you as I was a-comin' back from the racket
school. My eye, wasn't you tidy and screwed though! You don't ought to
be trusted with 'orses, you don't."

"I wasn't screwed, Billy," said I, "and I wasn't driving."

"No, that you wasn't driving. But I knows the bloke as was."

"Do you know Mr Whipcord?"

"Yaas, I knows the animal," he replied, with a grin. "He gave me a
doin' with his stick once, he did."

"But did you see me pitched out?" I asked, not feeling particularly
interested in the last reminiscence.

"In corse I did. I seen you. Thought you was dead, and I fetches the
bloke to yer, and the bloke sends me for the doctor, and the doctor--"

At this moment the door opened and a stranger entered.

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

HOW I SUFFERED A RELAPSE, WHICH DID ME GOOD.

The gentleman who entered the room was a middle-aged man, of striking
appearance. In face and person he seemed worn and feeble. He walked
with a slight stoop; his cheeks were hollow and slightly flushed, and
his brow was furrowed by lines which would have appeared deep even in a
much older man. But as soon as he began to talk his face lit up, his
eyes sparkled, and there was a ring in his voice which was more like
Jack Smith himself than his older and more sedate namesake.

For this stranger, I guessed at once, must be the other Mr Smith with
whom Jack lodged.

At sight of him Billy stopped abruptly in the middle of his sentence,
and, putting his hand up to his forelock, saluted him with his usual
familiar grin.

"Ah, William, my worthy friend, you here?" the gentleman said, almost
gaily, as he entered. "I heard I should find you on duty. You must
introduce me to this sick gentleman, and ask him if I shall disturb
him."

Billy grinned in a confused sort o