called fer Slops an' Slops had slopped over. He were layin'
under a tree dead drunk. The Jedge let me go an' Preston come on with
me. Now 'twere funny he turned up jest as he done; funny I got
app'inted cook o' _The Snow_ so as I had to give that 'ere paper to
you. I tell ye it's workin'--allus workin'."

"Doctor Franklin wants to see you," said Jack. "Put on your Sunday
clothes an' we'll go over to his house. I think I can lead you there.
If we get lost we'll jump into a cab."

When they set out Solomon was dressed in fine shoes and brown wool
stockings and drab trousers, a butternut jacket and blue coat, and a
big, black three-cornered hat. His slouching gait and large body and
weathered face and the variety of colors in his costume began at once
to attract the attention of the crowd. A half-drunk harridan surveyed
him, from top to toe, and made a profound bow as he passed. A number
of small boys scurried along with them, curiously staring into the face
of Solomon.

"Ain't this like comin' into a savage tribe that ain't seen no
civilized human bein' fer years?"

"Wot is it?" a voice shouted.

"'E's a blarsted bush w'acker from North Hamerica, 'e is," another
answered.

Jack stopped a cab and they got into it.

"Show us some of the great buildings and land us in an hour at 10
Bloomsbury Square, East," he said.

With a sense of relief they were whisked away in the stream of traffic.

They passed the King's palace and the great town houses of the Duke of
Bedford and Lord Balcarras, each of which was pointed out by the
driver. Suddenly every vehicle near them stopped, while their male
occupants sat with bared heads. Jack observed a curious procession on
the sidewalk passing between two lines of halted people.

"Hit's their Majesties!" the driver whispered under his breath.

The King--a stout, red-nosed, blue-jowled man, with big, gray, staring
eyes--was in a sedan chair surmounted by a crown. He was dressed in
light cloth with silver buttons. Queen Charlotte, also in a chair, was
dressed in lemon colored silk ornamented with brocaded flowers. The
two were smiling and bowing as they passed. In a moment the procession
entered a great gate. Then there was a crack of whips and the traffic
resumed its hurried pace.

"Hit's their Majesties, sir, goin' to a drawin'-room at Lord Rawdon's,
sir," the driver explained as he drove on.

"Did you see the unnatural look in his gray eyes?" said Jack, turni