mmanded Mr. Ketchmaid,
"and get off in the arternoon, then I'll give you some dinner besides
the five shillings as arranged."

Mr. Wiggett thanked him warmly, and, taking a candle, withdrew to the
unwonted luxury of clean sheets and a soft bed. For some time he lay
awake in deep thought and then, smothering a laugh with the bed-clothes,
he gave a sigh of content and fell asleep.

To the landlord's great annoyance his guest went for a walk next morning
and did not return until the evening, when he explained that he had
walked too far for his crippled condition and was unable to get
back. Much sympathy was manifested for him in the bar, but in all the
conversation that ensued Mr. Ketchmaid listened in vain for any hint
of his departure. Signals were of no use, Mr. Wiggett merely nodding
amiably and raising his glass in response; and when, by considerable
strategy, he brought the conversation from pig-killing to nieces, Mr.
Wiggett deftly transferred it to uncles and discoursed on pawn-broking.

The helpless Mr. Ketchmaid suffered in silence, with his eye on the
clock, and almost danced with impatience at the tardiness of his
departing guests. He accompanied the last man to the door, and then,
crimson with rage, returned to the bar to talk to Mr. Wiggett.

"Wot d'y'r mean by it?" he thundered.

"Mean by what, Sol?" inquired Mr. Wiggett, looking up in surprise.

"Don't you call me Sol, 'cos I won't have it," vociferated the landlord,
standing over him with his fist clenched. "First thing to-morrow morning
off you go."

"Off?" repeated the other in amazement. "Off? Whereto?"

"Anywhere," said the overwrought landlord; "so long as you get out of
here, I don't care where you go."

Mr. Wiggett, who was smoking a cigar, the third that evening, laid
it carefully on the table by his side, and regarded him with tender
reproach.

"You ain't yourself, Sol," he said, with conviction; "don't say another
word else you might say things you'll be sorry for."

His forebodings were more than justified, Mr. Ketchmaid indulging in a
few remarks about his birth, parentage, and character which would have
shocked an East-end policeman.

"First thing to-morrow morning you go," he concluded, fiercely. "I've
a good mind to turn you out now. You know the arrangement I made with
you."

"Arrangement!" said the mystified Mr. Wiggett; "what arrangements? Why,
I ain't seen you for ten years and more. If it 'adn't been for meeting
Cap'n P