an't be as bad as that," said his uncle. "It's a
good, honest, Liberal Government that's in, and they would certainly
move at my request. Thank God, the days of Tory jobbery are at an end."

"It wouldn't do, Uncle Ned," said Gideon.

"But you're not mad enough," cried Mr. Bloomfield, "to persist in trying
to dispose of it yourself?"

"There is no other path open to me," said Gideon.

"It's not common-sense, and I will not hear of it," cried Mr.
Bloomfield. "I command you, positively, Gid, to desist from this
criminal interference."

"Very well, then, I hand it over to you," said Gideon, "and you can do
what you like with the dead body."

"God forbid!" ejaculated the president of the Radical Club, "I'll have
nothing to do with it."

"Then you must allow me to do the best I can," returned his nephew.
"Believe me, I have a distinct talent for this sort of difficulty."

"We might forward it to that pest-house, the Conservative Club,"
observed Mr. Bloomfield. "It might damage them in the eyes of their
constituents; and it could be profitably worked up in the local
journal."

"If you see any political capital in the thing," said Gideon, "you may
have it for me."

"No, no, Gid--no, no, I thought _you_ might. I will have no hand in the
thing. On reflection, it's highly undesirable that either I or Miss
Hazeltine should linger here. We might be observed," said the president,
looking up and down the river; "and in my public position the
consequences would be painful for the party. And, at any rate, it's
dinner-time."

"What?" cried Gideon, plunging for his watch. "And so it is! Great
heaven, the piano should have been here hours ago!"

Mr. Bloomfield was clambering back into his boat; but at these words he
paused.

"I saw it arrive myself at the station; I hired a carrier man; he had a
round to make, but he was to be here by four at the latest," cried the
barrister. "No doubt the piano is open, and the body found."

"You must fly at once," cried Mr. Bloomfield, "it's the only manly
step."

"But suppose it's all right?" wailed Gideon. "Suppose the piano comes,
and I am not here to receive it? I shall have hanged myself by my
cowardice. No, Uncle Ned, inquiries must be made in Padwick; I dare not
go, of course; but you may--you could hang about the police office,
don't you see?"

"No, Gid--no, my dear nephew," said Mr. Bloomfield, with the voice of
one on the rack. "I regard you with the most sacred affection;