way aloft with a loaded tea-tray. By supper-
time he was suffering considerably from hunger and thirst.

At ten o'clock he heard the footsteps of Mr. Mott descending the stairs.
The door opened an inch, and a gruff voice demanded to know whether he
was going to stay there all night. Receiving a cheerful reply in the
affirmative, Mr. Mott secured the front door with considerable violence,
and went off to bed without another word.

He was awakened an hour or two later by the sound of something falling,
and, sitting up in bed to listen, became aware of a warm and agreeable
odour. It was somewhere about the hour of midnight, but a breakfast
smell of eggs and bacon would not be denied.

He put on some clothes and went downstairs. A crack of light showed
under the kitchen door, and, pushing it open with some force, he gazed
spellbound at the spectacle before him.

"Come in," said Mr. Hurst, heartily. "I've just finished."

He rocked an empty beer-bottle and patted another that was half full.
Satiety was written on his face as he pushed an empty plate from him,
and, leaning back in his chair, smiled lazily at Mr. Mott.

"Go on," said that gentleman, hoarsely. Mr. Hurst shook his head.

"Enough is as good as a feast," he said, reasonably. "I'll have some
more to-morrow."

"Oh, will you?" said the other. "Will you?"

Mr. Hurst nodded, and, opening his coat, disclosed a bottle of beer in
each breast-pocket. The other pockets, it appeared, contained food.

"And here's the money for it," he said, putting down some silver on the
table. "I am determined, but honest."

With a sweep of his hand, Mr. Mott sent the money flying.

"To-morrow morning I send for the police. Mind that!" he roared.

"I'd better have my breakfast early, then," said Mr. Hurst, tapping his
pockets. "Good night. And thank you for your advice."

He sat for some time after the disappearance of his host, and then,
returning to the front room, placed a chair at the end of the sofa and,
with the tabl

William Wymark Jacobs (September 8, 1863 September 1, 1943), was an English author of short stories and novels. He is now best remembered for his macabre tales The Monkeys Paw (published 1902) and The Toll House (in the collection of short stories The Lady of the Barge). However the majority of his output was humorous in tone. His favourite subjects were marine life: men who go down to the sea in ships of moderate tonnage said Punch, reviewing his first collection of stories, Many Cargoes, which achieved great popular success on its publication in 1896.

William Wymark Jacobs (September 8, 1863 September 1, 1943), was an English author of short stories and novels. He is now best remembered for his macabre tales The Monkeys Paw (published 1902) and The Toll House (in the collection of short stories The Lady of the Barge). However the majority of his output was humorous in tone. His favourite subjects were marine life: men who go down to the sea in ships of moderate tonnage said Punch, reviewing his first collection of stories, Many Cargoes, which achieved great popular success on its publication in 1896.

William Wymark Jacobs (September 8, 1863 September 1, 1943), was an English author of short stories and novels. He is now best remembered for his macabre tales The Monkeys Paw (published 1902) and The Toll House (in the collection of short stories The Lady of the Barge). However the majority of his output was humorous in tone. His favourite subjects were marine life: men who go down to the sea in ships of moderate tonnage said Punch, reviewing his first collection of stories, Many Cargoes, which achieved great popular success on its publication in 1896.