able
towards one another.

"Now Booms is going out for the grub, aren't you, Booms? He'll get some
for you too, young 'un, if you like."

"No, thanks; I'd be very glad, but I promised to have dinner with my
brother--he's a compositor here."

"Lucky man!" groaned Booms. "Think of having nothing to do but pick up
types instead of slaving like this every day!"

"See the sausages are hot this time, won't you, Booms? And look alive,
there's a dear fellow."

Booms retired sadly.

"Good-natured chap, Booms," said Waterford; "rather a risk of imposing
on him if one isn't careful. He's an awfully decent fellow, but it's a
sad pity he's such a masher."

"A what?" asked Horace.

"A masher. He mayn't look it, but he goes it rather strong in that line
after hours. He doesn't mean it, poor soul; but he's mixed up with some
of our reporters, and tries to go the pace with them. I don't care for
that sort of thing myself, but if you do, he's just your man. You
wouldn't think it to look at him, would you?"

"Certainly not," replied Horace, much impressed by this confidence and
the revelation it afforded.

As Booms re-entered shortly afterwards, looking very gloomy, burdened
with two plates, two mugs, and a sheaf of knives and forks under his
arm, he certainly did not give one the impression of a very rakish
character, and Horace could scarcely refrain from smiling as he tried to
picture him in his after-hours character.

He left the couple to their sausages, and went out, in the vain hope of
finding Reginald somewhere. But there was no sign of workmen anywhere,
and, to his disgust, he ascertained from a passing boy that the
compositors' dinner-hour did not begin till he was due back at his work.
Everything seemed to conspire to sever the two brothers, and Horace
dejectedly took a solitary and frugal repast. He determined, at all
hazards, to wait a minute after the bell summoning him back to work had
ceased pealing, and was rewarded by a hasty glimpse of his brother, and
the exchange of a few hurried sentences. It was better than nothing,
and he rushed back to his room just in time to save his reputation for
punctuality.

The afternoon passed scarcely less busily than the morning. They sat--
and Booms had contrived to raise a third chair somewhere--with a pile of
work in front of them which at first seemed hopeless to expect to
overtake.

There were effusions to "decline with thanks," and others to enter in a