He stalked solemnly out of the room and downstairs, and, safe in the
parlour, gave vent to his feelings in a wild but silent hornpipe. He
cannoned against the table at last, and, subsiding into an easy-chair,
crammed his handkerchief to his mouth and gave way to suppressed mirth.

In his excitement he forgot all about tea, and the bereaved Mrs. Teak
made no attempt to come downstairs to prepare it. With his eye on the
clock he waited with what patience he might for the arrival of Mr. Chase.
The usual hour for his return came and went. Another hour passed; and
another. A horrible idea that Mr. Chase had been robbed gave way to one
more horrible still. He paced the room in dismay, until at nine o'clock
his wife came down, and in a languid fashion began to set the
supper-table.

"Alf's very late," said Mr. Teak, thickly.

"Is he?" said his wife, dully.

"Very late," said Mr. Teak. "I can't think--Ah, there he is!"

He took a deep breath and clenched 'his hands together. By the time Mr.
Chase came into the room he was able to greet him with a stealthy wink.
Mr. Chase, with a humorous twist of his mouth, winked back.

"We've 'ad a upset," said Mr. Teak, in warning tones.

"Eh?" said the other, as Mrs. Teak threw her apron over her head and sank
into a chair. "What about?"

In bated accents, interrupted at times by broken murmurs from his wife,