,'" I remarked to Clara, as we drove away, "is always
a painful one. Oddly enough when I was hunting the humpo, or humped
buffalo, of the Himalayas----"

"Do tell me about it, darling," whispered Clara, as she nestled beside
me in the cab.

VI

THE KIDNAPPED PLUMBER

A TALE OF THE NEW TIME

(_Being one chapter--and quite enough---from the Reminiscences of an
Operating Plumber_)

_VI.--The Kidnapped Plumber: A Tale of the New Time._

"Personally," said Thornton, speaking for the first time, "I never care
to take a case that involves cellar work."

We were sitting--a little group of us--round about the fire in a
comfortable corner of the Steam and Air Club. Our talk had turned, as
always happens with a group of professional men, into more or less
technical channels. I will not say that we were talking shop; the word
has an offensive sound and might be misunderstood. But we were talking
as only a group of practising plumbers--including some of the biggest
men in the profession--would talk. With the exception of Everett, who
had a national reputation as a Consulting Barber, and Thomas, who was a
vacuum cleaner expert, I think we all belonged to the same profession.
We had been holding a convention, and Fortescue, who had one of the
biggest furnace practices in the country, had read us a paper that
afternoon--a most revolutionary thing--on External Diagnosis of
Defective Feed Pipes, and naturally the thing had bred discussion.
Fortescue, who is one of the most brilliant men in the profession, had
stoutly maintained his thesis that the only method of diagnosis for
trouble in a furnace is to sit down in front of it and look at it for
three days; others held out for unscrewing it and carrying it home for
consideration; others of us, again, claimed that by tapping the affected
spot with a wrench the pipe might be fractured in such a way as to prove
that it was breakable. It was at this point that Thornton interrupted
with his remark about never being willing to accept a cellar case.

Naturally all the men turned to look at the speaker. Henry Thornton, at
the time of which I relate, was at the height of his reputation.
Beginning, quite literally, at the bottom of the ladder, he had in
twenty years of practice as an operating plumber raised himself to the
top of his profession. There was much in his appearance to suggest the
underlying reasons of his success. His face, as is usual with men of our
calling,