pockets, put on his hat again and left the house.

He dined badly at a small eating-house, and returned home at six o'clock
that evening to find his wife out and the cupboard empty. He went back
to the same restaurant for tea, and after a gloomy meal went round to
discuss the situation with Ted Stokes. That gentleman's suggestion of a
double alibi he thrust aside with disdain and a stern appeal to talk
sense.

"Mind, if my wife speaks to you about it," he said, warningly, "it
wasn't me, but somebody like me. You might say he 'ad been mistook for
me before."

Mr. Stokes grinned and, meeting a freezing glance from his friend, at
once became serious again.

"Why not say it was you?" he said stoutly. "There's no harm in going for
a 'bus-ride with a friend and a couple o' ladies."

"O' course there ain't," said the other, hotly, "else I shouldn't ha'
done it. But you know what my wife is."

Mr. Stokes, who was by no means a favorite of the lady in question,
nodded. "You _were_ a bit larky, too," he said thoughtfully. "You
'ad quite a little slapping game after you pretended to steal her
brooch."

"I s'pose when a gentleman's with a lady he 'as got to make 'imself
pleasant?" said Mr. Henshaw, with dignity. "Now, if my missis speaks to
you about it, you say that it wasn't me, but a friend of yours up from