n minutes to spare. He
bought the tickets feverishly....

As his master emerged from the cab, Lyveden perceived with a shock that
his nervousness had begun to return. Terror was riding behind, coming
up, overhauling him fast. The blood which had flooded his face had
begun to recede. The hand that received the tickets and change was
trembling. In a fever of anxiety the ex-officer hustled his charges
towards the platform....

People turned and stared as they passed. One woman screamed....

At the sudden cry Mr. Slumper started violently. His face was very
pale now, and there were tiny beads of sweat upon the side of his nose.
His mouth was working painfully. It was a question whether they could
board the train before he collapsed. The idiot upon his arm could have
shambled another mile.

They came to the barrier.

Anthony had no ticket and could not pass, but he put them into the
queue and steered them up to the gate.

The passenger behind Mr. Slumper turned suddenly and brushed against
him. At the touch on his shoulder the poor devil started frightfully
and drew in his breath with a hoarse whoop. The face that he turned to
the offender was a wet grey....

In front of them there were only two, now--one. They were in the jaws
of the barrier.... Mr. Slumper had not the power to present his
tickets, and the inspector took the pasteboard out of his shaking hand.
He clipped it and handed it back, staring. Mr. Slumper fumbled, and
the tickets fell to the ground. He stooped drunkenly, and the
inspector put a hand under his arm.

"Gent ill 'ere, Joe," he threw over his shoulder, apparently addressing
a colleague, whom Anthony could not see. "Give 'im a 'and up the
platform."

Anthony heaved a sigh of relief.

The next moment he saw a burly station-constable--presumably
"Joe"--step into view and put a broad arm tenderly about his master's
back...

Mr. Slumper stiffened and stood quivering with the peculiar vibration
of a wire that is taut. The ridiculous figure attached to him stood
still also, rolling its head foolishly.

"Come along, sir," urged the official in a kindly tone.

Mr. Slumper stopped shaking, took out his handkerchief, and wiped his
face. Then he turned to the speaker.

"It's all right," he said. "_I'll go quietly._"

Anthony turned on his heel and walked out of the station.

There was no more to be done.

CHAPTER II

THE WAY OF A MAID

A footman looked out of an a