eggatt had finished washing up and were seated, smoking,
while the damp duster dried at the fire.

'About what time was it,' said Pyecroft to Leggatt, 'when our Mr.
Morshed began to talk about uncles?'

'When he came back to the bar, after he'd changed into those rat-catcher
clothes,' said Leggatt.

'That's right. "Pye," said he, "have you an uncle?" "I have," I says.
"Here's santy to him," and I finished my sherry and bitters to
_you_, uncle.'

'That's right,' said Pyecroft's uncle sternly. 'If you hadn't I'd have
belted you worth rememberin', Emmanuel. I had the body all night.'

Pyecroft smiled affectionately. 'So you 'ad, uncle, an' beautifully you
looked after her. But as I was saying, "I have an uncle, too," says Mr.
Morshed, dark and lowering. "Yet somehow I can't love him. I want to
mortify the beggar. Volunteers to mortify my uncle, one pace to
the front."

'I took Jules with me the regulation distance. Jules was getting
interested. Your Mr. Leggatt preserved a strictly nootral attitude.

'"You're a pressed man," says our Mr. Morshed. "I owe your late employer
much, so to say. The car will manoeuvre all night, as requisite."

'Mr. Leggatt come out noble as your employee, and, by 'Eaven's divine
grace, instead of arguing, he pleaded his new paint and varnish which
was Mr. Morshed's one vital spot (he's lootenant on one of the new
catch-'em-alive-o's now). "True," says he, "paint's an 'oly thing. I'll
give you one hour to arrange a _modus vivendi_. Full bunkers and steam
ready by 9 P.M. to-night, _if_ you please."

'Even so, Mr. Leggatt was far from content. _I_ 'ad to arrange the
details. We run her into the yard here.' Pyecroft nodded through the
window at my car's glossy back-panels. 'We took off the body with its
mats and put it in the stable, substitooting (and that yard's a tight
fit for extensive repairs) the body of uncle's blue delivery cart. It
overhung a trifle, but after I'd lashed it I knew it wouldn't fetch
loose. Thus, in our composite cruiser, we repaired once more to the
hotel, and was immediately dispatched to the toy-shop in the High Street
where we took aboard one rocking-horse which was waiting for us.'

'Took aboard _what_?' I cried.

'One fourteen-hand dapple-grey rocking-horse, with pure green rockers
and detachable tail, pair gashly glass eyes, complete set 'orrible
grinnin' teeth, and two bloody-red nostrils which, protruding from the
brown papers, produced the _tout ensembl