town, and had become a
little interested in the place.

Dick did not hesitate, but followed the private till he was close behind
him, and then uttered one word sharply, which brought him round on the
instant, to stare hard at the speaker, but without any change of
countenance.

"Yes; what is it? I've got my pass."

Dick could not speak again for the peculiar feeling of emotion which
troubled him, and the man began to frown.

"Was it me you meant when you called `Jerry'?" he said.

"Yes; you are Jerry Brigley."

"I'm Jeremiah Brigley," was the snappish reply, "and I tell you I've got
my pass. There you are."

But Dick did not even glance at it, for this was a new shock. Some day
he meant to go back and claim his position--some day--but here was a man
with whom he had been on most intimate terms staring at him blankly
without a sign of recognition!

"Mornin'!" said Jerry, shortly; and he faced round and walked on. But
Dick was after him directly, recovering somewhat from the shock he had
sustained, and ready to treat the position with something like forced
mirth in his delight at meeting one old link with the past.

"Jerry!" he cried, and the man faced round sharply.

"Well, what do you want with him?"

"Don't you know me, Jerry?" cried Dick.

"No, and don't want to; and, if this is a try-on to get me to stand
beer, it's a dead failure!"

"Not quite!" said Dick, smiling, though his heart ached.

"Look here, do you want a tanner?" cried Jerry, snappishly.

"Well, I am short of money," said Dick, as a sudden thought came to
mind; "but not a tanner. Pay me the sovereign you borrowed of me!"

"What?"

"I did not mean ever to ask you for it, but it would be useful now."

"Well, I'm blest!" cried Jerry. "Talk about cheek! When did I borrow a
sovereign of you, my whippersnapper?"

"Two years ago, when you wanted to bet on some horse for the Derby."

Jerry's jaw dropped.

"Who--who--who--who--says?" he stuttered. "How did--? When did--?
Here--who are you?--How did--? I say: who are you?"

"Dick Smithson, 205th Band," replied the young man, unable to keep from
enjoying the state of puzzledom in which his ex-servant was plunged.

"But I don't know no Dick Smithson; and how you--you--you! Oh, lor'!"

Jerry had suddenly turned ghastly, reeled, and caught at the lamp-post
close at hand.

"Hush! Quiet!" cried Dick, in an excited whisper. "Don't make a
scene!"

"S'Richard!" gasped Jerry.