's forgot again," repeated Tom. "He woke up this morning and wanted
to know who he was and where he was." Comments.

"Better give him best, Oracle," said Mitchell presently. "If he can't
find out who he is and where he is, the boss'll soon find it out for
him."

"No," said Tom, "when I take a thing in hand I see it through."

This was also characteristic of the boss-over-the-board, though in
another direction. He went down to the but and inquired for Smith.

"Why ain't you at work?"

"Who am I, sir? Where am I?" whined Smith. "Can you please tell me who I
am and where I am?"

The boss drew a long breath and stared blankly at the Mystery; then he
erupted.

"Now, look here!" he howled, "I don't know who the gory sheol you are,
except that you're a gory lunatic, and what's more, I don't care a damn.
But I'll soon show you where you are! You can call up at the store and
get your cheque, and soon as you blessed well like; and then take a
walk, and don't forget to take your lovely swag with you."

The matter was discussed at the dinner-table. The Oracle swore that it
was a cruel, mean way to treat a "pore afflicted chap," and cursed the
boss. Tom's admirers cursed in sympathy, and trouble seemed threatening,
when the voice of Mitchell was heard to rise in slow, deliberate tones
over the clatter of cutlery and tin plates.

"I wonder," said the voice, "I wonder whether Smith forgot his cheque?"

It was ascertained that Smith hadn't.

There was some eating and thinking done. Soon Mitchell's voice was heard
again, directed at The Oracle.

It said "Do you keep any vallabels about your bunk, Oracle?"

Tom looked hard at Mitchell. "Why?"

"Oh, nothin': only I think it wouldn't be a bad idea for you to look at
your bunk and see whether Smith forgot."

The chaps grew awfully interested. They fixed their eyes on Tom, and he
looked with feeling from one face to another; then he pushed his plate
back, and slowly extracted his long legs from between the stool and the
table. He climbed to his bunk, and carefully reviewed the ingredients of
his swag. Smith hadn't forgot.

When The Oracle's face came round again there was in it a strange
expression which a close study would have revealed to be more of anger
than of sorrow, but that was not all. It was an expression such as a man
might wear who is undergoing a terrible operation, without chloroform,
but is determined not to let a whimper escape him. Tom didn't swear, and
b