Kate and Dick jumped into a compartment with the same people as before, plus a chorus-girl who was making up to Montgomery in the hopes of being allowed to say on the entrance of the duke, 'Oh, what a jolly fellow he is!' Mortimer shouted to Hayes, who always went with the pipe-smokers, and Dick spoke about the possibility of producing some new piece at Liverpool. Dubois, Mortimer, Bret, and the chorus-girl settled down to a game of nap. Dick, Leslie, and Montgomery were singing tunes or fragments of tunes to each other, and talking about 'effects' that might be introduced into the new piece. But would Dick produce a new piece? The conversation changed, and it was asked if no money could be saved this trip in the taking of the tickets, and Dick was closely questioned as to when, in his opinion, it would be safe to try their little plant on again. Instead of answering he leant back, and gradually a pleasant smile began to trickle over his broad face. He was evidently maturing some plan. 'What is it, Dick? Do say like a good fellow,' was repeated many times, but he refused to give any reply. This aroused the curiosity of the company, and it grew to burning pitch when the train drew up at a station and Dick began a conversation with the guard concerning the length of time they would have at Preston, and where they would find the train that was to take them on to Blackpool. 'You'll have a quarter of an hour's wait at Preston. You'll arrive there at 4.20 and at thirty-five past you'll find the train for Blackpool drawn up on the right-hand side of the station.' 'Thanks very much,' replied Dick as he tipped the guard; and then, turning his head towards his friends, he whispered, 'It's as right as a trivet; I shall be back in a minute.' 'Where's he off to?' asked everybody. 'He's just gone into the telegraph office,' said Montgomery, who was stationed at the window. A moment after Dick was seen running up the platform, his big hat giving him the appearance of an American. As he passed each compartment of their carriage he whispered something in at the window. 'What can he be saying? What can he be arranging?' asked Miss Leslie. 'I don't care how he arranges it as long as I get a drink on the cheap at Preston,' said Mortimer. 'That's the main point,' replied Dubois. 'Well, Dick, what is it?' exclaimed everybody, as the big man sat down beside Kate. 'The moment the train arrives at Preston we must all make a rush for the refreshment-rooms and ask for Mr. Simpson's lunch.' 'Who's Mr. Simpson? What lunch? Oh, do tell us! What a mysterious fellow you are!' were the exclamations reiterated all the way along the route. But the only answer they received was, 'Now what does it matter who Mr. Simpson is? Eat and drink all you can, and for the life of you don't ask who Mr. Simpson is, but only for his lunch.'