can of
turps in the room. Moistening the rag slightly with turps he carefully
removed the paint from Sweater's sleeve.

'It's all orf not, sir,' he remarked, as he rubbed the place with a dry
part of the rag. 'The smell of the turps will go away in about a
hour's time.'

'Thanks,' said Sweater.

Philpot looked at him wistfully, but Sweater evidently did not
understand, and began looking about the room.

'I see they've put a new piece of skirting here,' he observed.

'Yes, sir,' said Newman, who came into the room just then to get the
turps. 'The old piece was all to bits with dry-rot.'

'I feel as if I 'ad a touch of the dry-rot meself, don't you?' said
Philpot to Newman, who smiled feebly and cast a sidelong glance at
Sweater, who did not appear to notice the significance of the remark,
but walked out of the room and began climbing up to the next floor,
where Harlow and Sawkins were working.

'Well, there's a bleeder for yer!' said Philpot with indignation.
'After all the trouble I took to clean 'is coat! Not a bloody stiver!
Well, it takes the cake, don't it?'

'I told you 'ow it would be, didn't I?' replied Newman.

'P'raps I didn't make it plain enough,' said Philpot, thoughtfully. 'We
must try to get some of our own back somehow, you know.'

Going out on the landing he called softly upstairs.

'I say, Harlow.'

'Hallo,' said that individual, looking over the banisters.

''Ow are yer getting on up there?'

'Oh, all right, you know.'

'Pretty dry job, ain't it?' Philpot continued, raising his voice a
little and winking at Harlow.

'Yes, it is, rather,' replied Harlow with a grin.

'I think this would be a very good time to take up the collection,
don't you?'

'Yes, it wouldn't be a bad idear.'

'Well, I'll put me cap on the stairs,' said Philpot, suiting the action
to the word. 'You never knows yer luck. Things is gettin' a bit
serious on this floor, you know; my mate's fainted away once already!'

Philpot now went back to his room to await developments: but as Sweater
made no sign, he returned to the landing and again hailed Harlow.

'I always reckon a man can work all the better after 'e's 'ad a drink:
you can seem to get over more of it, like.'

'Oh, that's true enough,' responded Harlow. 'I've often noticed it
meself.'

Sweater came out of the front bedroom and passed into one of the back
rooms without any notice of either of the men.

'I'm afraid it's a frost, mate,' Harlo