rt was filled with
a kind of reverential pity for anyone who was fortunate or unfortunate
enough to possess an "affliction;" and amongst his mates had been
counted a deaf man, a blind man, a poet, and a man who "had rats." Tom
had dropped across them individually, when they were down in the
world, and had befriended them, and studied them with great
interest--especially the poet; and they thought kindly of him, and were
grateful--except the individual with the rats, who reckoned Tom had an
axe to grind--that he, in fact, wanted to cut his (Rat's) liver out as a
bait for Darling cod--and so renounced the mateship.

It was natural, then, for The Oracle to take the present case under his
wing. He used his influence with the boss to get the Mystery on "picking
up," and studied him in spare time, and did his best to assist the poor
hushed memory, which nothing the men could say or do seemed able to push
further back than the day on which the stranger "kind o' woke up" on
the plain, and found a swag beside him. The swag had been prospected
and fossicked for a clue, but yielded none. The chaps were sceptical at
first, and inclined to make fun of the Mystery; but Tom interfered, and
intimated that if they were skunks enough to chyack or try on any of
their "funny business" with a "pore afflicted chap," he (Tom) would
be obliged to "perform." Most of the men there had witnessed Tom's
performance, and no one seemed ambitious to take a leading part in it.
They preferred to be in the audience.

"Yes," reflected The Oracle, "it's a curious case, and I dare say some
of them big doctors, like Morell Mackenzie, would be glad to give a
thousand or two to get holt on a case like this."

"Done," cried Mitchell, the goat of the shed. "I'll go halves!--or stay,
let's form a syndicate and work the Mystery."

Some of the rouseabouts laughed, but the joke fell as flat with Tom as
any other joke.

"The worst of it is," said the Mystery himself, in the whine that was
natural to him, and with a timid side look up at Tom--"the worst of it
is I might be a lord or duke, and don't know anything about it. I might
be a rich man, with a lot of houses and money. I might be a lord."

The chaps guffawed.

"Wot'yer laughing at?" asked Mitchell. "I don't see anything
unreasonable about it; he might be a lord as far as looks go. I've seen
two."

"Yes," reflected Tom, ignoring Mitchell, "there's something in that; but
then again, you see, you might b