is strange hiding-place, but a little reflection showed him the
absurdity and impossibility of the idea.

He had not long to wait. In a very few minutes young Girdlestone came
out again, accompanied by a tall, burly man, with a bushy red beard, who
was miserably dressed, and appeared to be somewhat the worse for drink.
He was helped into the cab by Ezra, and the pair drove off together.
Tom was more bewildered than ever. Who was this fellow, and what
connexion had he with the matter on hand? Like a sleuth-hound the
pursuing hansom threaded its way through the torrent of vehicles which
pour down the London streets, never for one moment losing sight of its
quarry. Presently they wheeled into the Waterloo Road, close to the
Waterloo Station. The red cab turned sharp round and rattled up the
incline which leads to the main line. Tom sprang out, tossed a
sovereign to the driver, and followed on foot at the top of his speed.

As he ran into the station Ezra Girdlestone and the red-bearded stranger
were immediately in front of him. There was a great swarm of people all
around, for, as it was Saturday, there were special trains to the
country. Tom was afraid of losing sight of the two men in the crowd, so
he elbowed his way through as quickly as he could, and got immediately
behind them--so close that he could have touched them with his hand.
They were approaching the booking-office, when Ezra glanced round and
saw his rival standing behind him. He gave a bitter curse, and
whispered something to his half-drunken companion. The latter turned,
and with an inarticulate cry, like a wild beast, rushed at the young man
and seized him by the throat with his brawny hands.

It is one thing, however, to catch a man by the throat, and another to
retain that grip, especially when your antagonist happens to be an
International football player. To Tom this red-bearded rough, who
charged him so furiously, was nothing more than the thousands of
bull-headed forwards who had come upon him like thunder-bolts in the
days of old. With the ease begotten by practice he circled his
assailant with his long muscular arms, and gave a quick convulsive jerk
in which every sinew of his body participated. The red-bearded man's
stumpy legs described a half-circle in the air, and he came down on the
stone pavement with a sounding crash which shook every particle of
breath from his enormous body.

Tom's fighting blood was all aflame now, and his