rfully proceeded to unload. Mr. Gavel watched in
speechless rage. Old Holly, the carrier, suggested that there was no
need to give up hope of the horses. They might turn up yet before dark.
Boats came down the canal at all hours of the day.

"Then why couldn't you have waited and given 'em a chance?" foamed the
proprietor; and commanding Holly to turn the empty wagon and follow, he
strode off in the direction of the Wharf. The afternoon was hot.
His furred coat oppressed him; his shoes--of patent leather, bought
ready-made--pinched his feet. On the road he came to a public-house,
entered, and gulped down two "goes" of whisky. Still the wagon lagged
behind. Re-emerging, he took the road again, his whole man hot within
his furred coat as a teapot within a cosy.

In this temper, then, Mr. Gavel came to the wharf at Preston Bagot
locks, and finding the _Success to Commerce_ moored there with a tall
man apparently in charge, demanded if he came from Birmingham.

"Or thereabouts," answered the tall man, eyeing him. "From there or
thereabouts. And, if I mistake not, you are the--er--person of whom I
came in search."

The man's voice took Mr. Gavel somewhat aback. It did not resemble an
ordinary bargee's. But at the moment he could no more check the
explosion of his wrath than you can hold back a cork in the act of
popping from a bottle of soda-water.

"Curse your laziness!" exploded Mr. Gavel; "and this is your notion of
searching for me, is it?"

"It appears to be a pretty successful one," said Dr. Glasson.
"I've discovered you, anyhow; and now I suggest to you that swearing
won't help the reckoning between us."

"Oh, stow your fine talk! I've heard of sea-lawyers, and I suppose
you're a canal specimen. Carriage was paid at the other end, and you
know it. I catch you here loafing, and I'm going to dispute the bill--
which means that you'll get the sack, my friend, whether I recover the
money or no. Pounds out of pocket I am by this, not to speak of
reputation. Where are they? Where have you put 'em?"

"That's what I'll trouble _you_ to answer, sir."

"My hosses! . . . You don't mean to tell me--" Mr. Gavel smote his brow.
"But you said just now you were looking for me!" he cried.

"You act well, sir," said Dr. Glasson sternly. "It is your profession.
But, as it happens, I have made inquiries along the canal, and am proof
against your bluster. A boat, the _Success to Commerce_--a bargeman in
a