he complained; "it's all
the harder luck, for I never was on such an errand before, and it'll just
make the difference to me."

"You'll have time," said Thrush, consulting his watch as the train showed
signs of life at last.

"Not for what I want to do," said Mr. Upton firmly. "I want to shake that
man's hand, and to hear from his own lips about my boy!"

"I'm not sure that you'll find him at home," Thrush said, after a
contemplative pause.

"I'll take my chance of that."

"He said something about their both going out of town to-day--meaning niece
and self. I heard her playing just before I left, and that seemed to
remind him of it."

"Well, Thrush, I mean to risk it."

"And losing the train?"

"I can motor down to Plymouth; there's plenty of time. I might take him
with me, as well as you?"

"Better," said Thrush, after another slight pause. "I'd rather you didn't
count on me for that trip, Mr. Upton."

"Not count on you"?

"One of us will be quite enough."

"Have you some other case to shove in front of mine, then?" cried the
ironmaster, touched on the old raw spot.

"I shouldn't put it like that, Mr. Upton."

"All right! I'll take your man Mullins instead; but I'll try my luck at
that German doctor's first," he growled, determined to have his own way in
something.

"I'm afraid you can't have Mullins," said Thrush, gently.

"Want him yourself do you?"

"I do; but I'm afraid neither of us can have him just now, Mr. Upton."

"Why not? Where is he."

Thrush leant across as they swam into the lighted terminus.

"In prison."

"In prison! Your man Mullins?"

"Yes, Mr. Upton, he's the man they arrested yesterday on suspicion of
complicity in this Hyde Park affair!"

MALINGERING

Pocket had put the fragments of his poor letter together again, and was
still poring over those few detached and mutilated words, which were the
very ones his tears had blotted, when there came a warning chink of
tea-things on the stairs. He was just able to thrust the pieces back into
his pocket, and to fling himself at full length on the bed, before Dr.
Baumgartner entered with a tray.

"There, my young fellow! This will make a man of you! Then we shall see
you yourself again by supper-time."

"I'm not coming down again," said Pocket. "Don't force me, please"

"Force you?" Baumgartner cocked a keen eye at the open window. "What a
tyrant you would make me out! On the contrary, I think you sho