"doesn't own up to a
snuffle. This Mr. Todd's house, sir?"

"Yes. I'd just ask to see Mr. Taylor, the house-master, first. I fancy
he'll be pleased to see you."

The constable's plain, unvarnished tale gave the Rev. E. Taylor as
pleasant a ten minutes as he had enjoyed for some time, and he passed on
the worthy man to the butler with instructions as to "something hot."
Then he rapped on Todd's door.

Decidedly the ship _Agustus Vernon Robert Todd_ "had found herself."

CHAPTER XVII

RAFFLES' BILL

It was with hearty thankfulness at the idea of being finally rid of
Raffles that Jack walked over to the "Lodestone" by himself on the
Thursday, jingling his last few shillings in his pockets. Raffles was
waiting for him in the stables, and he was very friendly and familiar,
which always annoyed Jack immensely.

"Glad you're in time, sir, and to 'ear the dibs a-rattlin' in your
pockets."

"Because they'll rattle in yours, soon, I suppose. I make out I owe you
about ten shillings, Raffles."

"'Ow do you make that out, Mr. Bourne?"

"Rabbits, cartridges, and dummy pigeons. I'm about right, I fancy?"

"Right as far as they go."

"As far as they go, of course--not farther. Then here you are."

"And the gun," said Raffles, calmly, looking into vacancy, and not
seeing Jack's coins--"leastwise, wot was a gun."

"Am I to pay for that filthy article?" said Jack, angrily. "Why, it
nearly blew my brains out!"

"'As'e to pay for that breech-loader gun?" said Raffles, laughing
softly as at some good joke. "Why, of course you have."

"My opinion is, Raffles, that that gun was rotten. It wasn't worth a
sovereign. I don't believe it was ever fit to shoot with, now."

"Of course, _now_," said Raffles, with a sneer. "_Now_, when you've got
to pay for it."

"I don't know so much about 'have got to pay for it' at all. That grin
of yours doesn't improve your looks, Raffles," said Jack, who was rather
nettled by Raffles' sneer.

"Well, my bantam cock," said Raffles, savagely, "I only 'opes as this
'ere bill won't spoil yours. And let me tell you, young shaver, I want
the money."

Jack calmly took the piece of note-paper which Raffles hurriedly fished
out of his pocket, and flourished dramatically before Bourne. There was
a touching simplicity about Raffles' bill-making that would in ordinary
times have made Jack split with laughter, but, naturally, at the present
time he did not feel in a very jovial frame of mind