"Well," he said cheerfully, "you get the razors and I'll attend to the parson end of it. Any special denomination?" I paid for our dinner (he had insisted upon paying the cab) and gathered up my hat and stick. "It's absurd," I went on, "perhaps he meant 'person,' though what's the point in that? Anyhow I must start directly. There may be a night train. Would you rather stop here a while?" "No, no, let me see you through," he said good-naturedly. "I'm interested. Perhaps he's going to fight a duel with the razors and wants the parson for the other fellow! Perhaps he's made a bet to shave a parson. Perhaps----" But I was in no mood for joking. The telegram, so unlike Roger, and yet so unmistakably his, in a way--I have often noted a curious characteristic quality in telegrams--worried me. I wished I had got it in time to make the train he mentioned. I wished I were in that mysterious town. Suppose he had depended on me for it? Suppose he needed me? We drove down in silence. My man got out with me at the club and smiled at the Gladstone the porter held out to me. "There are the razors, anyhow," he said. Richard had the name of the town for me, too (the town I prefer not to tell you) and the next train that would make it: it left in fifteen minutes. "And it _is_ parson, sir--p-a-r-s-o-n: there's no mistake. Shall I call you a cab, sir?" I bit through my cigar with irritation. "In heaven's name," I cried, "how am I to get a sensible parson in fifteen minutes? In the first place, I don't believe there is such a thing!" "Hold on, there," said my friend suddenly, "there is, Jerrolds, for I'm one, and you know it!" I started at him. Who in the devil was he? Instinctively I began an apology. "I--I didn't recall at the moment----" "Between you and me," he cut me short, "I'm just as well pleased that you didn't, Jerrolds! The sooner we get through with all this white choker and black coat business, the sooner we'll amount to something, in my way of thinking. Well, seriously--will I do? Do you know anybody better? Because I'll go, if you don't." I grasped his offered hand. "Heaven bless you," I thought, "whoever you are!" and, "All right," I said shortly, "it's very kind of you. We'll have to hurry, I'm afraid." We had just time to jump for the last platform. I remember apostrophising the Gladstone rather strongly as I fell on its metal clasp, and glancing apologetically at my companion, but he was tactfully deaf, and we found a seat together, by good luck, and settled down for our hot and tiresome night.