oing towards him.

"My name is Thomas St. Clair Jones," he answered, with dignity.

"Well, Mr. Thomas St. Clair Jones, have another pint."

"I'm not in the habit of drinking with strangers, but as you are a
gentleman like myself, I don't mind," and he graciously handed his pot
to be filled.

"Now then, Jones, button up your coat, pull up your breeches, put your
hat on straight, and lead the way," said Hal, in an imperious voice. To
the surprise of Reg Jones did exactly as he was told, pulled himself
together, and obediently led the way out.

"I thought as much," said Hal to his friend. "He's a lag and has been
used to obey orders."

The procession halted in front of a dilapidated-looking building,
commonly known as the Police Station. In answer to a knock an antiquated
sergeant appeared and entrusted Jones with the keys after a whispered
colloquy in which one could distinguish the word "halves." Jones
preceded them with the keys, but had not gone far when Hal called out to
him:

"Say, Jones: what were you sent out for?"

Jones cast a withering glance at the speaker, which softened from
indignation to injured innocence in so dramatic a manner that Hal
almost felt sorry he had spoken. Then he silently turned and resumed his
road to the prisons.

"Jones, come back," said Hal, in his voice of authority, which again was
instantly obeyed. "I ask again, what were you sent out here for; and I
may say if you do not answer my question this yellow boy will stay in my
pocket."

"I came out here on a visit, sir."

"Jones, you are a liar. Come on, Reg, he does not want this money."

"Oh! well, sir, since you put it that way, and since I know you are
gentlemen, I will confide in you. It was like this: One day I was
standing at a street corner wondering where my next meal would come
from, when a swell joker comes along, and says to me: 'Do you want to
earn a bob?' 'Rather, sir,' says I, 'how?' 'By just follering me and
carrying this parcel.' 'Right!' says I, and I started off after him,
pleased as anything at earning a bob so easily; but I had not gone far
when a bobby comes up and says, 'Here's the man,' and he arrested me,
what for I don't know. All I do know was, that I was brought before a
beak and charged with stealing. I told him the whole story, but all he
said was, 'ten years' penal servitude.' That's how I come out here, so
help me G--"

"I don't wonder at the magistrate not believing you, Jones. You are an
i