of the room,
slamming the glass-door behind him with such violence that every panel
in it was shivered to atoms! He wheeled round and re-entered the room.
Denham grew pale, supposing that the roused giant was about to assault
him; but Bax only pointed to the door, and said sternly--"Part of the
wages due me will pay for that. You can keep the balance, and buy
yourself a Bible with it."

Next moment he was gone, and Peekins stood staring at his master through
the shattered door, trembling from head to foot. Immediately afterwards
Denham took his hat and stick, and passed through the office. Pausing
at the door he looked back:--

"Ruggles."

"Yes, sir."

"There are five or six foreign letters in my desk for tomorrow's post.
Copy them out to-night. See that you do it _to-night_. Peekins will
remain with you, and lock up after you have done."

Ruggles, who knew that this involved work till near midnight, humbly
replied, "Yes, sir."

Having thus secured the misery of at least two human beings, Denham went
home, somewhat relieved, to dinner.

Bax unconsciously, but naturally, followed his example. He also went to
dinner, but, having no home in that quarter, he went to the "Three Jolly
Tars," and found the landlord quite willing to supply all his wants on
the shortest possible notice, namely, three-quarters of an hour.

In a snug box of that celebrated place of entertainment, he found Tommy
Bogey (whom he had brought with him) awaiting his appearance. The
precocious youth was deeply immersed in a three-days'-old copy of _The
Times_.

"Hallo! Bax, you've been sharp about it," said Tommy, laying down the
paper and pulling a little black pipe out of his pocket, which he
proceeded coolly and quietly to fill just as if he had been a bearded
and grey-headed tar; for Tommy, being a worshipper of Bax, imitated, as
all worshippers do, the bad as well as the good qualities of his hero,
ignorant of, as well as indifferent to, the fact that it would have been
more noble to imitate the good and avoid the bad.

"Ay, we've settled it all slick off in no time," said Bax, sitting down
beside his young companion, and proceeding also to fill his pipe.

"An' wot about the widders and horphans?" inquired Tommy, beginning to
smoke, and using his extremely little finger as a tobacco-stopper in a
way that might have surprised a salamander.

"The widows!" exclaimed Bax.

"Ay, the widders--also the horphans," repeated Tommy,