some pellets.

"Here, take one of these every hour until the cough is relieved, my
friend," said he.

The man stared, swallowed a pellet, stared again, in an odd, suspicious,
surly fashion, muttered something unintelligible and passed on.

There were three villages between Gresham and Alton: Red Hill,
Stanbridge, and Westover. James stopped in Red Hill at a quick-lunch
wagon, which was drawn up on the principal street under the lee of the
town hall, went in, ordered and ate with relish some hot frankfurters,
and drank some coffee. He had eaten a plentiful breakfast before
starting, but the keen air had created his appetite anew. Beside him at
the counter sat a young workingman, also eating frankfurters and
drinking coffee. Now and then he gave a sidelong and supercilious glance
at James's fine clothes. James caught one of the glances, and laughed
good-naturedly.

"These quick-lunch wagons are a mighty good idea," said he.

The man grunted and took a swallow of coffee.

"Where do you work?" asked James.

"None of your d---- business!" retorted the other man unexpectedly.
"Where do you work yourself?"

James stared at him, then he burst into a roar. For a second the man's
surly mouth did not budge, then the corners twitched a little.