‘Give you five pounds to one you don’t deal!’ cried one. ‘Give you five pounds to one you’re hunted!’ shouted ‘The Hermit.’ ‘Bet you slap-up feed for the crowd to-night, and wine thrown in, that somethin’s broke afore you come back,’ said the American gentleman. ‘Done, and done, and done,’ replied Mr Potts placidly, as he carefully booked the wagers and drove off; whilst the bystanders, to a man, agreed to delay their departure for the sake of not only eating a cheap dinner, but witnessing a return which they were all convinced would be ‘as good as a play.’ But they were mistaken. Mr Potts was received at Barracaboo with open arms, no one recognising in the clean-shaven features those of the bearded, dilapidated swagman who had the other night spied out the lay of the land and the leanings of its people. The manager was absent; but the overseer, who had already by personal inspection satisfied himself of the merits of ‘Bold Dick Turpin,’ etc., was amongst the earliest purchasers. ‘Everything went like wildfire. Mr Potts could hardly hand them out fast enough. Those present bought for others away on the run, and in a very short time there were only three volumes left. These were of a different calibre to the rest of the rubbish, being nothing less than ‘The Adventures of Don Quixote de la Mancha,’ with illustrations by Gustave Doré. However, as no one would even look at them at the price—five pounds—the dealer, having pretty well cleaned out ‘the Hut,’ determined to try his luck at ‘the House.’ Now, it happened that Mrs Morris, the manager’s wife, wished just at this time to buy something for her eldest boy, whose birthday was approaching. Recognising, as a reading woman, that the work was genuine, and not more than a pound or two over price, she bought it. It was so much less trouble than sending to the capital, with a chance of disappointment. ‘It’ll do very nicely for Master Reginald,’ quoth she; ‘I’m sure he’ll be pleased with it. And I’m glad to see that you people are at last beginning to carry something better than the usual lot of trash. I hope you did well amongst the men with these standard works?’ ‘Very nicely indeed, thank you, ma’am,’ replied Mr Potts, smiling, as he bowed and withdrew. * * * * * John, the waiter, had twice informed the ‘commercial gents’ that dinner was ready, before the anxious watchers saw the man who was expected to pay for it drive into the yard of the hotel. ‘He looks kinder spry,’ remarked the American gentleman disappointedly. ‘Guess he’s got clear off with a caution this once.’ ‘Buggy seems to run light,’ chimed in another. ‘Shouldn’t wonder if they’d unloaded it into the river.’