re Christmas-day, I
were coming home from my work; and just as I were passing the Railway
Inn I sees a bag lying on the step just outside the front door of the
public."

"A what?" exclaimed Bradly, half rising from his seat. "But go on--all
right," he added, noticing the sick man's surprise at his sudden
question.

"A bag," continued the other. "It were a shabby sort of bag, and I
thought it most likely belonged to Ebenezer Potts, for I'd often seen
him carrying a bag like it: you know Ebenezer's a joiner, and he used to
carry his tools with him in just such a bag. So I says to myself, `I'll
have a bit of fun with Ebenezer. I'll carry off his bag, and leave it
by-and-by on his own door-step when it's dark; won't he just be in a
fuss when he comes out of the public and misses it! I shall hear such a
story about it next day.' For you know, Thomas, Eben's a fussy sort of
chap, and he'd be roaring like a town-crier after his bag. It were a
foolish thing to do, but I only meant to have a bit of a game. So I
carries off the bag, and turns into the Green Dragon on my way home to
have a pint of ale.

"There was two or three of our set there, and one says to me, `What have
you got there, Ned?'--`It's Eben Potts's bag of tools,' says I; `I found
it lying on the step of the Railway Inn while he went in to get a pint.
I shall leave it at his own door in a bit; but won't he just make a fine
to-do when he misses it!'--`It'll be grand,' said one of them, and they
all set up a laugh.--`Let me look at the bag,' said poor Joe Wright,
who'd been staring at it. I hands it to him. `Why,' says he, `'tain't
Eben's bag after all.'--`Not his bag!' cries I, in a fright.--`Nothing
of the sort,' says he; `I knows his bag quite well. Besides, just feel
the weight of it; there's no tools in this bag.'--`Well, it _did_ strike
me,' says I, `as it were very light. What's to be done now? They'll be
after me for stealing a bag. I wonder what's in it? Not much, I'm
sure; just a few shirts and pocket-handkerchers, or some other gents'
things, I dessay.'

"`Well,' says another, `there'll be no harm looking, and it'll be easily
done--it's only a common padlock. Has any one got a key as'll unlock
it?' No one of us had; so we says to the landlady's daughter, Miss
Philips, who'd been peeping in, and had got her eyes and ears open,
`Have you got ever a bunch of keys, miss, as you could lend us?' She
takes a bunch out of her pocket, and com