irled up the chimney. The door opened, and the landlord, with the
waiter behind him, entered the room, but he still gazed placidly at the
glowing embers.

"What do you want?" demanded the landlord, in a deep voice.

The stranger turned a little weazened yellow face and grinned at him
familiarly.

"Send that fat rascal of yours away," he said, slowly.

The landlord started at his voice and eyed him closely; then he signed to
the man to withdraw, and closing the door behind him, stood silently
watching his visitor.

"You didn't expect to see me, Rogers," said the latter.

"My name's Mullet," said the other, sternly. "What do you want?"

"Oh, Mullet?" said the other, in surprise. "I'm afraid I've made a
mistake, then. I thought you were my old shipmate, Captain Rogers. It's
a foolish mistake of mine, as I've no doubt Rogers was hanged years ago.
You never had a brother named Rogers, did you?"

"I say again, what do you want?" demanded the other, advancing upon him.

"Since you're so good," said the other. "I want new clothes, food, and
lodging of the best, and my pockets filled with money."

"You had better go and look for all those things, then," said Mullet.
"You won't find them here."

"Ay!" said the other, rising. "Well, well--There was a hundred guineas
on the head of my old shipmate Rogers some fifteen years ago. I'll see
whether it has been earned yet."

"If I gave you a hundred guineas," said the innkeeper, repressing his
passion by a mighty effort, "you would not be satisfied."

"Reads like a book," said the stranger, in tones of pretended delight.
"What a man it is!"

He fell back as he spoke, and thrusting his hand into his pocket, drew
forth a long pistol as the innkeeper, a man of huge frame, edged toward
him.

"Keep your distance," he said, in a sharp, quick voice.

The innkeeper, in no wise disturbed at the pistol, turned away calmly,
and ringing the bell, ordered some spirits. Then taking a chair, he
motioned to the other to do the same, and they sat in silence until the
staring waiter had left the room again. The stranger raised his glass.

"My old friend Captain Rogers," he said, solemnly, "and may he never get
his deserts!"

"From what jail have you come?" inquired Mullet, sternly.

"'Pon my soul," said the other, "I have been in so many--looking for
Captain Rogers--that I almost forget the last, but I have just tramped
from London, two hundred and eighty odd miles, f