for this part of the world, and I had a meeting on tonight at
Brattleburn--that's my chief town, and an infernal Tory stronghold.
I had got the Colonial ex-Premier fellow, Crumpleton, coming to
speak for me tonight, and had the thing tremendously billed and
the whole place ground-baited. This afternoon I had a wire from
the ruffian saying he had got influenza at Blackpool, and here am I
left to do the whole thing myself. I had meant to speak for ten
minutes and must now go on for forty, and, though I've been
racking my brains for three hours to think of something, I simply
cannot last the course. Now you've got to be a good chap and help
me. You're a Free Trader and can tell our people what a wash-out
Protection is in the Colonies. All you fellows have the gift of the
gab--I wish to Heaven I had it. I'll be for evermore in your debt.'

I had very few notions about Free Trade one way or the other,
but I saw no other chance to get what I wanted. My young gentleman
was far too absorbed in his own difficulties to think how odd
it was to ask a stranger who had just missed death by an ace and
had lost a 1,000-guinea car to address a meeting for him on the spur
of the moment. But my necessities did not allow me to contemplate
oddnesses or to pick and choose my supports.

'All right,' I said. 'I'm not much good as a speaker, but I'll tell
them a bit about Australia.'

At my words the cares of the ages slipped from his shoulders,
and he was rapturous in his thanks. He lent me a big driving coat--
and never troubled to ask why I had started on a motor tour
without possessing an ulster--and, as we slipped down the dusty
roads, poured into my ears the simple facts of his history. He was