e rattled out an oath, which it was well
perhaps that I but partially heard. "Abijah Simmons," he then cried,
"what demon of perversity possesses you? Are you going to betray me here
in a foreign land, to turn out a false friend, a heartless rogue?"

"Go on, sir," said sturdy Simmons. "Pour it all out. I'll wait till
you've done. Your beer's lovely," he observed independently to the
waiter. "I'll have some more."

"For God's sake explain yourself!" his companion appealed.

There was a pause, at the end of which I heard Mr. Simmons set down his
empty tankard with emphasis. "You poor morbid mooning man," he resumed,
"I don't want to say anything to make you feel sore. I regularly pity
you. But you must allow that you've acted more like a confirmed crank
than a member of our best society--in which every one's so sensible."

Mr. Searle seemed to have made an effort to compose himself. "Be so good
as to tell me then what was the meaning of your letter."

"Well, you had got on MY nerves, if you want to know, when I wrote it.
It came of my always wishing so to please folks. I had much better have
let you alone. To tell you the plain truth I never was so horrified in
my life as when I found that on the strength of my few kind words you
had come out here to seek your fortune."

"What then did you expect me to do?"

"I expected you to wait patiently till I had made further enquiries and
had written you again."

"And you've made further enquiries now?"

"Enquiries! I've committed assaults."

"And you find I've no claim?"

"No claim that one of THESE big bugs will look at. It struck me at first
that you had rather a neat little case. I confess the look of it took
hold of me--"

"Thanks to your liking so to please folks!" Mr. Simmons appeared for
a moment at odds with something; it proved to be with his liquor. "I
rather think your beer's too good to be true," he said to the waiter. "I
guess I'll take water. Come, old man," he resumed, "don't challenge me
to the arts of debate, or you'll have me right down on you, and then you
WILL feel me. My native sweetness, as I say, was part of it. The idea
that if I put the thing through it would be a very pretty feather in
my cap and a very pretty penny in my purse was part of it. And the
satisfaction of seeing a horrid low American walk right into an old
English estate was a good deal of it. Upon my word, Searle, when I think
of it I wish with all my heart that, extravagant vai