enn and
Bodditch's?"

"I daresay you are capable of understanding that."

Hilliard planted his elbow in the window of the carriage and propped
his cheek on his hand.

"Yes; and a few other things," rejoined the well-dressed man. "How to
make money, for instance.--Well, haven't you any insult ready?"

The other looked out at a row of flaring chimneys, which the train was
rushing past: he kept silence.

"Go down to Liverpool," pursued Dengate, "and make inquiries about me.
You'll find I have as good a reputation as any man living."

He laboured this point. It was evident that he seriously desired to
establish his probity and importance in the young man's eyes. Nor did
anything in his look or speech conflict with such claims. He had hard,
but not disagreeable features, and gave proof of an easy temper.

"Paying one's debts," said Hilliard, "is fatal to reputation."

"You use words you don't understand. There's no such thing as a debt,
except what's recognised by the laws."

"I shouldn't wonder if you think of going into Parliament. You are just
the man to make laws."

"Well, who knows? What I want you to understand is, that if your father
were alive at this moment, I shouldn't admit that he had claim upon me
for one penny."

"It was because I understood it already that I called you a scoundrel."

"Now be careful, my lad," exclaimed Dengate, as again he winced under
the epithet. "My temper may get the better of me, and I should be sorry
for it. I got into this carriage with you (of course I had a
first-class ticket) because I wanted to form an opinion of your
character. I've been told you drink, and I see that you do, and I'm
sorry for it. You'll be losing your place before long, and you'll go
down. Now look here; you've called me foul names, and you've done your
best to rile me. Now I'm going to make you ashamed of yourself."

Hilliard fixed the speaker with his scornful eyes; the last words had
moved him to curiosity.

"I can excuse a good deal in a man with an empty pocket," pursued the
other. "I've been there myself; I know how it makes you feel--how much
do you earn, by the bye?"

"Mind you own business."

"All right. I suppose it's about two pounds a week. Would you like to
know what _my_ in come is? Well, something like two pounds an hour,
reckoning eight hours as the working day. There's a difference, isn't
there? It comes of minding my business, you see. You'll never make
anything like it; you