"Ah, yes," said Jim; "I was almost forgetting. What I want to know is--is Dick Hart responsible--for what he's done? Is it right--that a respectable man--a hardworking man--a honest man--should be compelled--to work until he's lost--all control over himself--till he's ready to drop--as I've told you before--and as I've been ready to myself--and that then--when a accident happens--which wouldn't have happened--if he'd been fresh--or if a fresh man had been--in his place is it right, I want to know," and Jim Podmore raised his arm slowly and lowered it, and raised it again and lowered it again, as if it were a piston, "that that man--should be put--in prison--should be disgraced--should lose his honest name--shouldn't be able to get work--for his old woman--and the young uns--and that they should be almost starving--as Dick Hart's people's doing now?" Fortunately for Old Wheels, who would have found these questions very difficult to answer, Jim Podmore was too tired and too sleepy to wait for a reply. "If I don't go upstairs--immediate," he said, rising slowly to his feet, "you'll have--to carry me. So I'll wish you--good-night, Mr. Wheels, and thank you." He paused at the door for the purpose of asking one other question. "Did you ever feel--that something was going to happen--without exactly knowing what it was?" "Yes," replied Old Wheels good-humouredly, "but it never did happen." "Ah," pondered the puzzled man, "but this will, though." "What will?" "Didn't I tell you--I didn't know what? But it'll happen--as sure as my name's--Jim Podmore. It's buzzing about my head now,--and I can't make it out." "Nervousness," suggested Old Wheels, "brought on by overwork." "Mayhap, but there it is. What would you call it, now? Give it a name." "It is a presentiment, I should say." "That's it. I've got--a presentiment. Thank you. Good-night, Mr. Wheels. I've got--a presentiment--and it'll come true--as sure as my name's--Jim." With that Jim Podmore staggered upstairs, with faithful Snap at his heels, and within an hour Old Wheels heard the street-door bell ring, and hurried downstairs. CHAPTER XXXVI. HOW FELIX GAINED A CLUB. Felix intended to leave Lily after he had seen her safely within doors, but the old man begged him to come in. A look from Lily decided him, and the three faithful souls ascended the stairs to the old man's room. Old Wheels entering first, gave Lily an opportunity to say hurriedly to Felix, "Don't tell grandfather of my fainting, Felix. It might distress him." He promised her. "Nor about Mr. Sheldrake." "Very well, Lily." She spoke in a whisper; she was so thrilling with exquisite sensitiveness that any harsher sound would have been a disturbance to her happy state.