g arms, in the group at the
back of the hall. Young Rabbich, whose father had made the greater
part of his money in butter and bacon, kept urging Eloquent to "go back
to the shop," inquired the present price of socks and pyjamas, and
whether the clothes he wore just then were made in Germany?

Eloquent saw Grantly Ffolliot frown and say something to his companion
as young Rabbich continued his questions, and then quite suddenly the
whole of that end of the hall was in a turmoil, and one by one the
interrupters were hauled from their seats and forcibly ejected from the
meeting, in spite of desperate resistance on their part. After that,
peace was restored, and Eloquent continued his speech amidst the
greatest enthusiasm.

His supporters cheered him to his house, and then departed to parade
the town, while their band played "Hearts of Oak," the chosen war-song
of the "Yallows." Meanwhile the Rabbich party had returned to the
Moonstone to compare their bruises and to get more drinks, and then
they sallied forth again to join a "Blue" procession, headed by a band
that played "Bonnie Dundee," which is the battle-cry of the Blues.

The rival bands met, the rival processions met and locked, and there
was a regular shindy. Eloquent, very tired and rather depressed, as a
man usually is on the eve of any great struggle, heard the distant
tumult and the shouting, and thought he had better go out and see what
was afoot.

He had hardly got outside his own front door, which was in a
little-frequented street not far from the police-station, when he saw
two policemen on either side of a hatless, dishevelled, and unsteady
youth, who held one of them affectionately by the arm while the other
held him.

Another glance and he perceived that the hatless one was Grantly
Ffolliot.

"Hullo!" cried Eloquent, "what's to do here?"

"Gentleman very disorderly, sir, throwing stones at windows of your
committee-room, fighting and brawling, and resisted violently--so we're
taking him to the station."

"He seems quiet enough now," Eloquent suggested.

Grantly smiled at him sleepily. "Good chaps, policemen," he murmured;
"fine beefy chaps."

"Look here," said Eloquent, "I'd much prefer you didn't charge him.
His people are well known; it will only create ill-feeling. I'll look
after him if you leave him with me."

The policemen looked at one another. . . . "Of course," said the one
to whom Grantly clung so lovingly, "we couldn't s