ering vaguely about the vast expanse of the
Colinderies, and not enjoying himself in the least. He had been
recommended by some travelled individual in Boisingham to a certain
lodging near Liverpool Street Station, which he found with the help of
a friendly porter. Thence he set out for the Exhibition, but, being of
a prudent mind, thought that he would do well to save his money and
walk the distance. So he walked and walked till he was tired, and
then, after an earnest consultation with a policeman, he took a 'bus,
which an hour later landed him--at the Royal Oak. His further
adventures we need not pursue; suffice it to say that, having started
from his lodging at three, it was past seven o'clock at night when he
finally reached the Exhibition, more thoroughly wearied than though he
had done a good day's harvesting.

Here he wandered for a while in continual dread of having his pocket
picked, seeking reaping machines and discovering none, till at length
he found himself in the gardens, where the electric light display was
in full swing. Soon wearying of this, for it was a cold damp night, he
made a difficult path to a buffet inside the building, where he sat
down at a little table, and devoured some very unpleasant-looking cold
beef. Here slumber overcame him, for his weariness was great, and he
dozed.

Presently through the muffled roar and hum of voices which echoed in
his sleep-dulled ears, he caught the sound of a familiar name, that
woke him up "all of a heap," as he afterwards said. The name was
"Quest." Without moving his body he opened his eyes. At the very next
table to his own were seated two people, a man and a woman. He looked
at the latter first. She was clad in yellow, and was very tall, thin
and fierce-looking; so fierce-looking that George involuntarily jerked
his head back, and brought it with painful force in contact with the
wall. It was the Tiger herself, and her companion was the coarse,
dreadful-looking man called Johnnie, whom she had sent away in the cab
on the night of Mr. Quest's visit.

"Oh," Johnnie was saying, "so Quest is his name, is it, and he lives
in a city called Boisingham, does he? Is he an off bird?" (rich)

"Rather," answered the Tiger, "if only one can make the dollars run,
but he's a nasty mean boy, he is. Look here, not a cent, not a stiver
have I got to bless myself with, and I daren't ask him for any more
not till January. And how am I going to live till January? I got th