_Spiker._ Oh, a mere nothing. (_Takes out a cigar._) Got a light about you? Thanks. Perhaps you don't recollect twenty-seven years ago this very day, travelling from Edgware Road to Baker Street, by the Underground Railway? _Sir P._ Perfectly; it was my thirteenth birthday, and I celebrated the event by a visit to Madame TUSSAUD'S. _Spiker._ Exactly; it was your thirteenth birthday, and you travelled second-class with a half-ticket--(_meaningly_)--on your thirteenth birthday. _Sir P. (terribly agitated)._ Fiend that you are, how came you to learn this? _Spiker._ Very simple. I was at that time in the temporary position of ticket-collector at Baker Street. In the exuberance of boyhood, you cheeked me. I swore to be even with you some day. _Sir P._ Even if--if your accusation were well-founded, how are you going to prove it? _Sp._ Oh, that's easy! I preserved the half-ticket, on the chance that I should require it as evidence hereafter. _Sir P. (aside)._ And so the one error of an otherwise blameless boyhood has found me out--at last. (_To_ SPIKER.) I fear you not; my crime--if crime indeed it was--is surely condoned by twenty-seven long years of unimpeachable integrity! _Sp._ Bye-laws are bye-laws, old buck! there's no time limit in criminal offences that ever _I_ heard of! Nothing can alter the fact that you, being turned thirteen, obtained a half-ticket by a false representation that you were under age. A line from me, even now, denouncing you to the Traffic Superintendent, and I'm very much afraid---- _Sir P. (writhing)._ SPIKER, my--my dear friend, you won't do that--you won't expose me? Think of my age, my position, my daughter! _Sp._ Ah, now you've touched the right chord! I _was_ thinking of your daughter--a nice lady-like gal--I don't mind telling you she fetched me, Sir, at the first glance. Give me her hand, and I burn the compromising half-ticket before your eyes on our return from church after the wedding. Come, that's a fair offer! _Sir P. (indignantly)._ My child, the ripening apple of my failing eye, to be sacrificed to a blackmailing blackguard like you! Never while I live! _Sp._ Just as you please; and, if you will kindly oblige me with writing materials, I will just drop a line to the Traffic Superintendent---- _Sir P. (hoarsely)._ No, no; not _that_.... Wait, listen; I--I will speak to my daughter. I promise nothing; but if her heart is still her own to give, she may (mind, I do not say she _will_) be induced to link her lot to yours, though I shall not attempt to influence her in any way--in _any_ way. _Sp._ Well, you know your own business best, old Cockalorum. Here comes the young lady, so I'll leave you to manage this delicate affair alone. Ta-ta. I shan't be far off. [_Swaggers insolently out as_ VERB. _enters_. _Sir P._ My child, I have just received an offer for your hand. I know not if you will consent? _Verb._ I can guess who has made that offer, and why. I consent with all my heart, dear Papa.