the stream of travellers into the little gas-lit booking office for
his ticket.

"Third return, Crinnock," he said, loudly, tossing a shining new
florin on to the counter.

At the sound of it the booking clerk half hesitated in stamping the
ticket he held in his hand, glanced sharply at the florin, and
hurriedly picking it up, scanned it closely.

"Bad 'un," he said, shortly, handing it back to Bob. "Ninepence,
please." Then, seeing the look of blank dismay on Bob's face, he
added, "Been had?"

Bob's cheeks were white, and his hand shaking, as he dived in his
pocket for the other two florins,--the only money he possessed in the
world. He saw himself tricked, cheated out of a day's pleasure, made
to look small in everyone's eyes.

He turned out the two other florins upon the counter, and at the
first ring of them on the wood he knew the truth, and his passion
blazed out fiercely against the man who had fooled him under cover of
the darkness.

"I'll have the law of him!" he stammered, almost speechless with
anger. "I know where he is, or pretty near, and I'll set the p'lice
on him, I will. Why--why--I might have been had up myself for trying
to pass bad money! Oh I'll make him sorry he ever tried his games on
me, I will!"