e asked wistfully.

"No, no. Go in."

"And if they goes for you, sir, and tries to wipe the face off you?"

"They won't, they won't. If they do, I'll shout for you."

He went reluctantly into the house, and I turned again to my audience.

"If you will kindly be quiet for a moment--" I said.

"I am Appleby, Mr. Garnet, in the High Street. Mr. Ukridge--"

"Eighteen pounds fourteen shillings--"

"Kindly glance--"

I waved my hands wildly above my head.

"Stop! Stop! Stop!" I shouted.

The babble continued, but diminished gradually in volume. Through the
trees, as I waited, I caught a glimpse of the sea. I wished I was out
on the Cob, where beyond these voices there was peace. My head was
beginning to ache, and I felt faint for want of food.

"Gentlemen!" I cried, as the noise died away.

The latch of the gate clicked. I looked up and saw a tall thin young
man in a frock coat and silk hat enter the garden. It was the first
time I had seen the costume in the country.

He approached me.

"Mr. Ukridge, sir?" he said.

"My name is Garnet. Mr. Ukridge is away at the moment."

"I come from Whiteley's, Mr. Garnet. Our Mr. Blenkinsop having written
on several occasions to Mr. Ukridge, calling his attention to the fact
that his account has been allowed to mount to a considerable figure,
and having received no satisfactory reply, desired me to visit him. I
am sorry that he is not at home."

"So am I," I said with feeling.

"Do you expect him to return shortly?"

"No," I said, "I do not."

He was looking curiously at the expectant band of duns. I forestalled
his question.

"Those are some of Mr. Ukridge's creditors," I said. "I am just about
to address them. Perhaps you will take a seat. The grass is quite dry.
My remarks will embrace you as well as them."

Comprehension came into his eyes, and the natural man in him peeped
through the polish.

"Great Scott, has he done a bunk?" he cried.

"To the best of my knowledge, yes," I said.

He whistled.

I turned again to the local talent.

"Gentlemen!" I shouted.

"Hear, hear!" said some idiot.

"Gentlemen, I intend to be quite frank with you. We must decide just
how matters stand between us." (A voice: "Where's Ukridge?") "Mr.
Ukridge left for London suddenly (bitter laughter) yesterday
afternoon. Personally I think he will come back very shortly."

Hoots of derision greeted this prophecy.

I resumed:

"I fail to see your object in coming here.