ic old screw."

"You're out there, mister," said the ostler, who was harnessing the
animal. "You'll find he ain't such a screw as you think. You'll need
to keep a steady hand on him all the way, pertikler on the road home, or
he'll screw you a way you don't fancy."

Whipcord laughed.

"I'll do my best," he said. "He does look a sort of beast to be nervous
of, certainly."

The ostler grinned cynically, and we meanwhile mounted to our seats,
Hawkesbury and Whipcord being in front, and I, much to my disgust, being
placed beside Masham on the back seat.

Despite Whipcord's desponding prophecies, our charger stepped out at a
pretty fair pace, and in due time we began to shake off the dust of
London from our wheels and meet the first traces of country.

For a considerable time my companion absorbed himself in his cigar--much
to my satisfaction--and I, for fear of appearing anxious for
conversation, betook myself to mine.

At length, however, after about half an hour thus occupied, Masham broke
the silence.

"Know Hawkesbury well?" he asked.

"Pretty well," I answered; "we were at school together first, and now
we're in the same office."

"Nice boy at school?"

"Yes; I think so."

"Not quite sure, eh?"

"I always got on well with him."

"Yes, you would. Sort of a nest for bad eggs, that school, wasn't it?"

"Yes--that is, a good many of the boys were a bad sort," said I, not
very comfortable to be undergoing this cross-examination.

"I understand. You weren't, of course, eh?" said he, digging me in the
ribs with his knuckles.

His manner was most offensive. I felt strongly inclined to resent it,
and yet somehow I felt that to be civil to him would be the less of two
evils.

"Hawkesbury doing well at the office, eh?"

"Certainly!" said I. "Why not?"

"See no reason at all. Worthy chap, Hawkesbury. Nice boy at home;
great comfort to the old people."

"Really," said I, "you know him much better than I do."

"Ah! should get to know Hawkesbury all you can. Moral chap--like you
and me, eh?" and here followed another dig in the ribs.

This was getting intolerable. However, at this point Whipcord pulled up
at a wayside inn, much to my relief. Anything was better than Masham's
conversation.

We halted a quarter of an hour, to give our horse time to get breath, as
Whipcord explained, but, as it really seemed, to allow that gentleman
and Masham to refresh themselves also.

When we started ag