"Looking after you, perhaps," retorted Mr. Butterby. "The streets are free for me, I suppose." "It would not be the first time you had looked after the wrong man. How many innocent people have you taken into custody lately?" "Now you just keep a civil tongue in your month, Mr. Roland Yorke. You'd not like it if I took you." "I should like it as well as Arthur Channing liked it when you took him," said bold Roland. "There's been a grudge lying on my mind against you ever since that transaction, Butterby, and I promise you I'll pay it off if I get the chance." "Did you make free with that cheque yesterday, Mr. Yorke--as you did by the other money?" asked Mr. Butterby, slightly exasperated. "Perhaps I did and perhaps I didn't," said Roland. "Think so, if you like. You are no better than a calf in these matters, you know, Butterby. Poor meek Jenkins, who was too good to stop in the same atmosphere that other folks breathed, was clearer-sighted than you. 'It's Arthur Channing, your worships, and I've took him prisoner to answer for it,' says you to the magistrates. 'It never was Arthur Channing,' says Jenkins, nearly going down on his knees to you in his honest truth. 'Pooh, pooh,' says you, virtuously indignant, 'I know a thief when I see him----'" "Now I vow, Mr. Roland Yorke----" "Don't interrupt your betters Butterby; wait till I've done," cried aggravating Roland, over-bearing the quieter voice. "You took up Arthur Channing, and moved heaven and earth to get him convicted. Had the wise king, Solomon, come express down from the stars on a frosty night, to tell you Arthur was innocent, you'd have pooh-poohed him as you did poor Jenkins. But it turned out not to be Arthur, you know, old Butterby; it was me. And now if you think you'd like to go in for the same mistake again, _go_ in for it. You would, if you took me up for this second thing." "I can tell you what, Mr. Roland Yorke--you'd look rather foolish if I walked into Mr. Greatorex's office tomorrow morning, and told him of that past mistake." "I don't much care whether you do or don't," said candid Roland. "As good let it come out as not, for somebody or other is always casting it in my teeth. Hurst does; my brother Gerald does--I've come now straight from hearing it. I thought I should have lived that down at Port Natal; but it seems I didn't." "You'll not live it down by impudence," said Mr. Butterby. "Then I must live it up," was the retort, "for impudence is a fault of mine. I've heard you say I had enough for the devil. So good night to you, Butterby. I am to be found at my lodgings, if you'd like to come after me there with a pair of handcuffs."