t.

Harry Chatswood took the opportunity (he had a habit of taking
opportunities of this sort) to whisper to Old Jack:

"Pay her the fourteen bob, Jack, and have done with it. She's got the
needle to-night all right, and damfiknow what for. But the sight of
your fourteen bob might bring her round." And Old Jack--as was his
way--blundered obediently and promptly right into the hole that was
shown him.

"Well, Mrs Mae," he said, getting up from the table and slipping his
hand into his pocket. "I don't know what's come over yer to-night, but,
anyway--" Here he put the money down on the table. "There's the money I
owe yer for--for--"

"For what?" she demanded, turning on him with surprising swiftness for
such a stout woman.

"The--the fourteen bob I owed for them drinks when Bill Hogan and me--"

"You don't owe me no fourteen bob for dhrinks, you dirty blaggard! Are
ye mad? You got no drink off of me. Phwat d'ye mean?"

"Beg--beg pardin, Mrs Mac," stammered Old Jack, very much taken aback;
"but the--yer know--the fourteen bob, anyway, I owed you when--that
night when me an' Bill Hogan an' yer sister-in-law, Mary Don--"

"What? Well, I--Git out of me house, ye low blaggard! I'm a honest,
respictable married woman, and so is me sister-in-law, Mary Donelly; and
to think!--Git out of me door!" and she caught up the billy of coffee.
"Git outside me door, or I'll let ye have it in ye'r ugly face, ye low
woolscourer--an' it's nearly bilin'."

Old Jack stumbled dazedly out, and blind instinct got him on to the
coach as the safest place. Harry Chatswood had stood with his long,
gaunt figure hung by an elbow to the high mantelshelf, all the time,
taking alternate gulps from his pint of coffee and puffs from his pipe,
and very calmly and restfully regarding the scene.

"An' now," she said, "if the _gentleman's_ done, I'd thank him to
pay--it's eighteenpence--an' git his overcoat on. I've had enough dirty
insults this night to last me a lifetime. To think of it--the blaggard!"
she said to the table, "an' me a woman alone in a place like this on a
night like this!"

The traveller calmly put down a two-shilling piece, as if the whole
affair was the most ordinary thing in the world (for he was used to many
bush things) and comfortably got into his overcoat.

"Well, Mrs Mae, I never thought Old Jack was mad before," said Harry
Chatswood. "And I hinted to him," he added in a whisper. "Anyway" (out
loudly), "you'll lend me a l