"Just you come and look at it," answered Mrs. Bowse, nodding her head.
"There's over two thousand dollars in bills spread out on the table in
the dining-room this minute. He had it in a belt pocket, and he
dragged it out in the street and would make Mr. Tembarom take it. Do
come and tell us what to do."

"I'd get him to take off his wet clothes and get into bed, and drink
some hot spirits and water first," said Little Ann. "Wouldn't you,
Mrs. Bowse?"

Hutchinson got up, newspaper in hand.

"I say, I'd like to go down and have a look at that chap myself," he
announced.

"If he's so frightened, perhaps--" Little Ann hesitated.

"That's it," put in Mrs. Bowse. "He's so nervous it'd make him worse
to see another man. You'd better wait, Mr. Hutchinson."

Hutchinson sat down rather grumpily, and Mrs. Bowse and Little Ann
went down the stairs together.

"I feel real nervous myself," said Mrs. Bowse, "it's so queer. But
he's not crazy. He's quiet enough."

As they neared the bottom of the staircase Little Ann could see over
the balustrade into the dining-room. The strange man was sitting by
the table, his disordered, black-haired head on his arm. He looked
like an exhausted thing. Tembarom was sitting by him, and was talking