surdly long tail. The hatchet was definitely buried now.
That little matter of the jug of water was forgotten.

"Well, Bob," said Garnet, "coming down to watch me bathe?"

Bob uttered a bark of approval and ran before him to the gate.

A walk of five minutes brought Garnet to the sleepy little town. He
passed through the narrow street, and turned on to the beach, walking
in the direction of the cob, that combination of pier and breakwater
which the misadventures of one of Jane Austen's young misses have made
known to the outside public.

The tide was high, and Garnet, leaving his clothes to the care of Bob,
dived into twelve feet of clear, cold water. As he swam he compared it
with the morning tub of town, and felt that he had done well to come
with Ukridge to this pleasant spot. But he could not rely on unbroken
calm during the whole of his visit. He did not know a great deal about
chicken farming, but he was certain that Ukridge knew less. There
would be some strenuous moments before that farm became a profitable
commercial speculation. At the thought of Ukridge toiling on a hot
afternoon to manage an undisciplined mob of fowls, and becoming more
and more heated and voluble in the struggle, he laughed and promptly
swallowed a generous mouthful of salt water. There are few things
which depress the swimmer more than an involuntary draught of water.
Garnet turned and swam back to Bob and the clothes.

As he strolled back along the beach he came upon a small, elderly
gentleman toweling his head in a vigorous manner. Hearing Garnet's
footsteps, he suspended this operation for a moment and peered out at
him from beneath a turban of towel.

It was the elderly Irishman of the journey, the father of the
blue-eyed Phyllis. Then they had come on to Lyme Regis after all.
Garnet stopped, with some idea of going back and speaking to him; but
realizing that they were perfect strangers, he postponed this action
and followed Bob up the hill. In a small place like Lyme Regis it
would surely not be difficult to find somebody who would introduce
them. He cursed the custom which made such a thing necessary. In a
properly constituted country everybody would know everybody else
without fuss or trouble.

He found Ukridge, in his shirt sleeves and minus a collar, assailing a
large ham. Mrs. Ukridge, looking younger and more childlike than ever
in brown holland, smiled at him over the teapot.

"Here he is!" shouted Ukridge, catching s