him, with the glare of the fire working a
curiously weird effect upon one-half of him, while the other half was
almost hidden in the dense shadow beyond, was a tall, spare, angular man
with queer little snappy eyes that flashed like diamonds in the light of
the forge. His hand was stretched out in a friendly way, and a bland
smile stretched across his face, following the lines of his wide,
extended lips.

"Aha!" he said cheerily, "how d'ye do? But I forgot! You don't know me
and I don't know you. Awkward, eh? But soon fixed, soon fixed. My name's
Wrangler, and yours is--er--what by the way, is yours?"

"Warlock," said Billy, laying down his iron and his hammer, and gazing
amiably at the stranger--"Billy Warlock."

"Warlock," Mr. Wrangler repeated. "Exactly. Well, then, Warlock,
Wrangler. Wrangler, Warlock. And now the formalities have been observed.
I don't know how it is with you, Warlock, but I'm a great stickler for
the formalities. 'Pon my life, I consider them the web upon which the
social fabric hangs together. They're not to be dispensed with upon any
account whatever. While I was abroad recently, the American Minister and
I were walking along the Mall together. 'Ah,' he suddenly said, 'My dear
Wrangler, here comes the Prince. Of course you know him.' Now, it so
happened that H. R. H. and I had never met. I didn't have time to reply,
for just as I was about to speak the Prince stopped us, and, after
greeting the Minister, utterly regardless of the formalities, he told me
that he hoped he saw me well. I gave him a look, Warlock, my boy, that
he will never forget, and coldly replying, 'Sir, I have not the pleasure
of your acquaintance,' I walked on. That afternoon the Minister sent me
an apology, but for which damme if I'd ever have spoken to him again."

[Illustration: "AHA!" HE SAID CHEERILY, "HOW D'YE DO?"]

During this speech, to which Billy listened with great attention and
some little awe, he examined Mr. Wrangler carefully. Mr. Wrangler's
clothes were harmoniously seedy. In the degree of their wornness his hat
was a match for his coat, and his coat a match for his trowsers, and his
trowsers a match for his boots. Although the weather was desperately
cold, and a heavy Christmas snow had fallen, he had on neither overcoat
nor overshoes. He did not appear to notice Billy's inspecting glances,
but having caught his breath, he went cheerily on.

"I am glad and proud to know you, Warlock, old fellow, and I wa