"And mine for you, my Jocko," mused Mrs. Lewknor, far more wary than her impulsive husband. "There are only three rooms though, and she's got four children already and is still only thirty or so." The Colonel rattled on, undismayed. "He'll be half a mile from the nearest pub here," he said. "Yes," replied Mrs. Lewknor--"and further from the clutches of that Burt man, who's twice as bad as any pub." "Ha, ha!" jeered the Colonel. "So you're coming round to my way of thinking at last, are you?" Next evening, the Colonel, eager always as a youth to consummate his purpose, bicycled with his wife through Paradise to Old Town. At the corner opposite the Rectory they met Alf Caspar, who was clearly in high feather. The Colonel dismounted for a word with the convener of the League. "Well, Caspar," he said. "So you've got your licence from the Watch Committee, I hear." Alf purred. "Yes, sir. All O.K.--down to the men that'll blow the horn to give em a bit o music." "When do you start?" "Bank Holiday, sir. I was just coming up to tell mother we were through. Last char-a-banc came this afternoon--smart as paint." The Colonel and Mrs. Lewknor walked on towards Church Street. At Billing's Corner, waiting for the bus, was Edward Caspar. He was peering at a huge placard advertising expeditions by Caspar's Road-touring Syndicate, to start on August 3rd. The Colonel, mischievous as a child, must cross the road to his old Trinity compeer. "Your boy's getting on, Mr. Caspar," he observed quietly. The old man made a clucking like a disturbed hen. "Dreadful," he said. "Dreadful." Mrs. Lewknor laid two fingers on his arm. "Mr. Caspar," she said. He glanced down at her like a startled elephant. Then he seemed to thrill as though a wind of the spirit was blowing through him. The roses of a forgotten youth bloomed for a moment in his mottled cheeks. An incredible delicacy and tenderness inspired the face of this flabby old man. "Miss Solomons!" he said, and lifting her little hand kissed it. The Colonel withdrew discreetly; and in a moment his wife joined him, the lights dancing in her eyes. "Pretty stiff!" grinned the Colonel--"in the public street and all." They turned down Borough Lane by the _Star_ and knocked Ruth up. She was ironing and did not seem best pleased to see the visitors. Neither did Joe Burt, who was sitting by the fire with little Alice on his knees. The little lady ignored the engineer. "Where are the other children?" she asked Ruth pleasantly. "Where they oughrer be," Joe answered--"in bed." The Colonel came to the rescue. "Is Caspar anywhere about?" he asked. "He's on his allotment, I reck'n," Ruth answered coldly. "Mr. Burt joins him there most in general every evening." "Yes," said Joe, "and was on the road now when A was interfered with." He kissed little Alice, put her down, and rose. "Good evening, Colonel." And he went out sullenly.