The shop was not at all in a good part of Evesham. The street was narrow and dirty, the shop the same. Over the door might be seen written "Tobias Jellico, Linen-draper and Huckster." One Monday--which is market-day at Evesham, as the world knows--in going past it with Tod and little Hugh, the child trod on his bootlace and broke it, and we turned in to get another. It was a stuffy shop, filled with bundles as well as wares, and behind the counter stood Mr. Jellico himself, a good-looking, dark man of forty, with deep-set blue eyes, that seemed to meet at the nose, so close were they together. The lace was a penny, he said, and Tod laid down sixpence. Jellico handed the sixpence to a younger man who was serving lower down, and began showing us all kinds of articles--neckties, handkerchiefs, fishing-lines, cigar-lights, for he seemed to deal in varieties. Hugh had put in his bootlace, but we could not get away. "I tell you we don't want anything of this," said Tod, in his haughty way, for the persistent fellow had tired him out. "Give me my change." The other man brought the change wrapped up in paper, and we went on to the inn. Tod had ordered the pony to be put in the chaise, and it stood ready in the yard. Just then a white-haired, feeble old man came into the yard, and begged. Tod opened the paper of half-pence. "The miserable cheat," he called out. "If you'll believe me, Johnny, that fellow has only given me fourpence in change. If I had time I'd go back to him. Sam, do you know anything of one Jellico, who keeps a fancy shop?" asked he of the ostler. "A fancy shop, sir?" echoed Sam, considering. "Sells calico and lucifer-matches." "Oh, I know Mr. Jellico!" broke forth Sam, his recollection coming to him. "He has got a cousin with him, sir." "No doubt. It was the cousin that cheated me. Mistakes are mistakes, and the best of us are liable to them; but if that was a mistake, I'll eat the lot." "It's as much of a leaving-shop as a draper's, sir. Leastways, it's said that women can take things in and borrow money on them." "Oh!" said Tod. "Borrow a shilling on a Dutch oven to-day, and pay two shillings to-morrow to get it out." "Anyway, Mr. Jellico does a fine trade, for he gives credit," concluded Sam. But the wrong change might have been a mistake. In driving home, Tod pulled up at George Reed's cottage. Every one must remember hearing where that was, and of Reed's being put into prison by Major Parrifer. "Get down, Johnny," said he, "and see if Reed's there. He must have left work." I went up the path where Reed's children were playing, and opened the cottage door. Mrs. Reed and two neighbours stood holding out something that looked like a gown-piece. With a start and a grab, Mrs. Reed caught the stuff, and hid it under her apron, and the two others looked round at me with scared faces.