it's an old idea that spirits like to get into the company of human
beings. A man told me once that he travelled down the Great Western with
a ghost and hadn't the slightest suspicion of it until the inspector
came for tickets. My friend said the way that ghost tried to keep up
appearances by feeling for it in all its pockets and looking on the
floor was quite touching. Ultimately it gave it up and with a faint
groan vanished through the ventilator."

"That'll do, Hirst," said another man.

"It's not a subject for jesting," said a little old gentleman who had
been an attentive listener. "I've never seen an apparition myself, but
I know people who have, and I consider that they form a very interesting
link between us and the afterlife. There's a ghost story connected with
this house, you know."

"Never heard of it," said another speaker, "and I've been here some
years now."

"It dates back a long time now," said the old gentleman. "You've heard
about Jerry Bundler, George?"

"Well, I've just 'eard odds and ends, sir," said the old waiter, "but
I never put much count to 'em. There was one chap 'ere what said 'e saw
it, and the gov'ner sacked 'im prompt."

"My father was a native of this town," said the old gentleman, "and knew
the story well. He was a truthful man and a steady churchgoer, but I've
heard him declare that once in his life he saw the appearance of Jerry
Bundler in this house.".

"And who was this Bundler?" inquired a voice.

"A London thief, pickpocket, highwayman--anything he could turn his
dishonest hand to," replied the old gentleman; "and he was run to earth
in this house one Christmas week some eighty years ago. He took his last
supper in this very room, and after he had gone up to bed a couple of
Bow Street runners, who had followed him from London but lost the scent
a bit, went upstairs with the landlord and tried the door. It was stout
oak, and fast, so one went into the yard, and by means of a short ladder
got onto the window-sill, while the other stayed outside the door. Those
below in the yard saw the man crouching on the sill, and then there was
a sudden smash of glass, and with a cry he fell in a heap on the stones
at their feet. Then in the moonlight they saw the white face of the
pickpocket peeping over the sill, and while some stayed in the yard,
others ran into the house and helped the other man to break the door in.
It was difficult to obtain an entrance even then, for it was bar