workers he is called a politician--if loud speaking and boasting can make
one. Yet if these doings give him stimulant instead of drink, who shall
complain?"

Soolsby's head was down. He was looking out over the far hills, while
the strips of cane were idle in his hands. "Ay, 'tis true--'tis true,"
he nodded. "Give a man an idee which keeps him cogitating, makes him
think he's greater than he is, and sets his pulses beating, why, that's
the cure to drink. Drink is friendship and good company and big thoughts
while it lasts; and it's lonely without it, if you've been used to it.
Ay, but Kimber's way is best. Get an idee in your noddle, to do a thing
that's more to you than work or food or bed, and 'twill be more than
drink, too."

He nodded to himself, then began weaving the strips of cane furiously.
Presently he stopped again, and threw his head back with a chuckle.
"Now, wouldn't it be a joke, a reg'lar first-class joke, if Kimber and
me both had the same idee, if we was both workin' for the same thing--
an' didn't know it? I reckon it might be so."

"What end is thee working for, friend? If the public prints speak true,
Kimber is working to stand for Parliament against Lord Eglington."

Soolsby grunted and laughed in his throat. "Now, is that the game of
Mister Kimber? Against my Lord Eglington! Hey, but that's a joke, my
lord!"

"And what is thee working for, Soolsby?"

"What do I be working for? To get the Egyptian back to England--what