Joe was among these. He found Mary ready with a cup of hot coffee, and the rosebud, who had just awakened, ready with a kiss. Joe accepted the second, swallowed the first, stretched his huge frame with a sigh of weariness, remarked to Mary that he would turn in, and in five minutes thereafter was snoring profoundly. CHAPTER THREE. One pleasant afternoon in spring David Clazie and Ned Crashington sat smoking together in front of the fire in the lobby of the station, chatting of hair-breadth escapes by flood and fire. "It's cold enough yet to make a fire a very pleasant comrade--w'en 'e's inside the bars," observed David. "H'm," replied Crashington. As this was not a satisfactory reply, David said so, and remarked, further, that Ned seemed to be in the blues. "Wotever can be the matter wi' you, Ned," said David, looking at his companion with a perplexed air; "you're a young, smart, 'ealthy fellar, in a business quite to your mind, an' with a good-lookin' young wife at 'ome, not to mention a babby. W'y wot more would you 'ave, Ned? You didn't ought for to look blue." "Pr'aps not," replied Ned, re-lighting his pipe, and puffing between sentences, "but a man may be in a business quite to his mind and have a good-looking wife, and a babby, and health to boot, without bein' exactly safe from an attack of the blues now and then, d'ye see? `It ain't all gold that glitters.' You've heard o' that proverb, no doubt?" "Well, yes," replied Clazie. "Ah. Then there's another sayin' which mayhap you've heard of too: `every man's got a skeleton in the cupboard.'" "I've heard o' that likewise," said Clazie, "but it ain't true; leastways, _I_ have got no skeleton in none o' my cupboards, an', wot's more, if I 'ad, I'd pitch him overboard." "But what if he was too strong for you?" suggested Ned. "Why, then--I don't know," said Clazie, shaking his head. Before this knotty point could be settled in a satisfactory manner, the comrades were interrupted by the entrance of a man. He was a thick-set, ill-favoured fellow, with garments of a disreputable appearance, and had a slouch that induced honest men to avoid his company. Nevertheless, Ned Crashington gave him a hearty "good afternoon," and shook hands. "My brother-in-law, Clazie," said Ned, turning and introducing him, "Mr Sparks." Clazie was about to say he "was 'appy to," etcetera, but thought better of it, and merely nodded as he turned to the grate and shook the ashes out of his pipe. "You'll come and have a cup of tea, Phil? Maggie and I usually have it about this time." Phil Sparks said he had no objection to tea, and left the station with Ned, leaving David Clazie shaking his head with a look of profound wisdom. "You're a bad lot, you are," growled David, after the man was gone, "a werry bad lot, indeed!" Having expressed his opinion to the clock, for there was no one else present, David thrust both hands into his pockets, and went out to take an observation of the weather.