Arthur Train

“ Which way do you go? I tell you what: you come back with me to the hotel, and then the hansom can take you both home."
Pedler and Aggam looked doubtfully at one another.
"Oh, come on, you fellows!" exclaimed McAllister, all his natural good spirits returning with a rush. "Get in there, now!"
Pedler and Aggam climbed in, and McAllister directed the driver to go to the Metropole, after stuffing a sovereign into the hand of his friend, the policeman. The stars were still marching across the sky, and the breeze had freshened. Every window was dark; no one was astir. ”

“ The clubman's face, however, was concealed in shadow from the other.
"You're working for Pondel, aren't you?"
The ghost coughed again, and shivered, although the air was warm.
"Yes," it answered huskily.
"Are you working on some clothes for a gentleman who's sailing on Monday?"
"Yes," it repeated.
"Then don't, any more," chirped McAllister encouragingly. "Those clothes are for me, and I don't want you to work any longer. You ought to be in bed."
"Wotcher givin' us?" grumbled Pedler. "G'wan! Leave us alone!" He started to descend. But the bobby stepped forward. ”

“ Yet the restless silence that precedes the dawn was in the air.
"I lives miles aw'y from 'ere," said Pedler after a meditated period.
"So do I," supplemented Aggam.
"I don't care," replied McAllister. "I've had this cab all night, anyhow, and I want to celebrate. You see, this is the first time I ever got ahead of my tailor."
Another long pause ensued. They were not a talkative lot, surely. McAllister's flow of language absolutely deserted him. He could think of no subject of conversation whatever. Pedler finally came to his assistance. ”

“ Pondel made a deprecating gesture.
"We are always glad to serve you, sir!" he repeated, as Wessons escorted the distinguished customer to the door.
"It's a great privilege to be employed by such a man as Mr. Pondel," whispered the salesman. "He thinks an enormous lot of you, sir. Very fine man—Mr. Pondel."
As the hansom jogged rapidly toward the hotel, McAllister reflected painfully upon the enormous sums of money that he annually transferred from his own pockets to those of the lordly tailor. ”

“ They swung out of the square, leaving the bobby standing in the shadow of Pondel's.
"I'll look out for 'em while you're gone," called the latter encouragingly.
They crossed Bond Street, followed Grosvenor Street into Park Lane, and plunging round Hyde Park corner, past the statue to England's greatest soldier, they entered Kingsbridge. McAllister, all awake from his recent experience, saw things that he had never observed before—bedraggled flower-girls in gaudy hats, with heart-rending faces; drunken laborers staggering along upon the arms of sad-featured women ”

“ Only the best people live in this neighborhood. Rather a neat little property." He proffered McAllister a cigar. The clubman wanted to kick him for a miserable, dirty cad.
"Right back!" he said to the cabby, hardly replying to the tailor's good-night.
London was asleep. Even the streets through which he had driven to Kew were hushed in preparation for the sodden Sunday to come. The moon had lowered over the housetops, and St. Timothy's was in the shadow as once again he drew up in front of Pondel's.
"Back already, sir?" The bobby stepped out to meet him.
"Yes," replied McAllister wearily. ”

“ It were cheap at twice the money to feel so much a gentleman.
"But this is Saturday, and it's five o'clock now. I don't see how you can possibly finish all those suits by to-morrow evening. You know I really didn't intend to order anything but the frock-coat. Perhaps you'd just better let the rest go. I can get them some other time."
"Not at all, Mr. McAllister; not at all. We are always delighted to serve you by any means in our power. Did Wessons say they would be finished to-morrow? ”

“ On they jogged, past narrow streets where, amid the flare of torches, the entire population of the neighborhood swarmed, bargained, swore, and quarrelled; where little children rolled under the costers' carts, fighting for scraps and decaying vegetables ”

“ It's just as the gentleman s'ys. You don't 'ave to work any more to-night. You can go 'ome."
"I s'y, wotcher givin' us?" repeated the other. "I cawn't go 'ome. Mr. Pondel's horders is to st'y 'ere until the clothes is finished. M'ybe it's as you s'y, but I cawn't go 'ome."
At this juncture a child began to cry drowsily below, and a woman's voice could be heard striving to comfort it.
"You don't mean you've got a baby down there!" exclaimed McAllister.
"Only little Annie," replied Pedler. "An' the old woman."
"Anyone else?"
"Aggam."
"Let's go down," suggested the bobby. ”

“ McAllister, what are you doin' way out 'ere? Excuse my appearance—a little pardonable neglishay of a Saturday evenin'. Come right in, won't you? Great honor, I'm sure. Though, if you'll believe it, I once 'ad the honor of a call from his Grace the Duke of Bashton right in this very 'all. Excuse me w'ile I announce your presence to Mrs. Pondel."
McAllister said something about having to go at once, but Pondel shuffled through the curtains, almost immediately sweeping them back with a lordly gesture of welcome.
"This way, Mr. McAllister." Our miserable friend entered the parlor. ”