besought him to give them some explanation of these
truly unaccountable proceedings of the Killgruellers.

[Illustration: The Respectable Gentleman]

'Alas! and alack-a-day!' sighed the unfortunate gentleman, 'allow me
first of all to put four questions to you. Firstly, What is the good of
a locked lock without a key?'

They were all forced to admit that it was of no use whatever.

'Secondly, What is the good of a gate with a useless lock that won't
unlock?'

No earthly use, all again admitted.

'Thirdly, What is the use of a town if you can't get into it?'

Of course, they all agreed there was only one answer to that.

'And now, fourthly and lastly,' said the Mayor, 'What do you do with all
useless things?'

'Destroy them,' Bill promptly rejoined.

'Exactly,' said the Right Honourable Hesketh, 'and that is what we have
done with our now useless town, and all the inhabitants are hastening to
build another town on the further side of the mountain, the gates of
which shall always be nailed open in order that such a dreadful calamity
may not occur again.'

Bill somehow could not help thinking that there might have been another
way out of the difficulty, but he did not like to say so. The old King
at last realised that the Killgruel liquorice was not for him, so he
offered no serious objections when Bill, early next morning, gave the
necessary orders to pack up and prepare for the march, which they now
resumed. The respectable gentleman preferred to remain with them rather
than again face the unfortunate Killgruellers.

They had not advanced very far upon their road, when Bill, who generally
walked a little in advance of his troop, heard a strange clanking noise
that appeared to proceed from a tall tree at the wayside. Wondering what
odd bird possessed such an unmusical song, he allowed his gaze to wander
thoughtfully among the leaves when, suddenly, what should he behold but
the form of the vanished scout, dangling by his legs from a branch, and
every time the tree was gently stirred by the breeze, there came forth
upon the air this weird sound.

Bill hastened to cut him down, but, to his unspeakable surprise, the
unhappy young stripling cried, 'Don't, don't! the keys! the keys!' He
then explained that when bidding farewell to them the other morning from
the walls of Killgruel, in his excitement he had suddenly fallen back
and swallowed the keys which, at the time, he had been holding between
his teeth. Bi