"No offence," said the other, quickly. "I mean if you earned it?" The soldier nodded and took his pipe from his mouth. "Gardening and windows?" he hazarded, with a shrug of his shoulders. The boatswain shook his head. "Scrubbing, p'r'aps?" said the soldier, with a sigh of resignation. "Last house I scrubbed out I did it so thoroughly they accused me of pouching the soap. Hang 'em!" "And you didn't?" queried the boatswain, eyeing him keenly. The soldier rose and, knocking the ashes out of his pipe, gazed at him darkly. "I can't give it back to you," he said, slowly, "because I've smoked some of it, and I can't pay you for it because I've only got twopence, and that I want for myself. So long, matey, and next time a poor wretch asks you for a pipe, be civil." "I never see such a man for taking offence in all my born days," expostulated the boat-swain. "I 'ad my reasons for that remark, mate. Good reasons they was." The soldier grunted and, stooping, picked up his bundle. "I spoke of arf a sovereign just now," continued the boatswain, impressively, "and when I tell you that I offer it to you to do a bit o' burgling, you'll see 'ow necessary it is for me to be certain of your honesty." "_Burgling?_" gasped the astonished soldier. "_Honesty?_ 'Struth; are you drunk or am I?" "Meaning," said the boatswain, waving the imputation away with his hand, "for you to pretend to be a burglar." "We're both drunk, that's what it is," said the other, resignedly. The boatswain fidgeted. "If you don't agree, mum's the word and no 'arm done," he said, holding out his hand. "Mum's the word," said the soldier, taking it. "My name's Ned Travers, and, barring cells for a spree now and again, there's nothing against it. Mind that." "Might 'appen to anybody," said Mr. Benn, soothingly. "You fill your pipe and don't go chucking good tobacco away agin." Mr. Travers took the offered box and, with economy born of adversity, stooped and filled up first with the plug he had thrown away. Then he resumed his seat and, leaning back luxuriously, bade the other "fire away." "I ain't got it all ship-shape and proper yet," said Mr. Benn, slowly, "but it's in my mind's eye. It's been there off and on like for some time." He lit his pipe again and gazed fixedly at the opposite hedge. "Two miles from here, where I live," he said, after several vigorous puffs, "there's a little public-'ouse called the Beehive, kept by a lady wot I've got my eye on." The soldier sat up. "She won't 'ave me," said the boatswain, with an air of mild surprise. The soldier leaned back again. "She's a lone widder," continued Mr. Benn, shaking his head, "and the Beehive is in a lonely place. It's right through the village, and the nearest house is arf a mile off." "Silly place for a pub," commented Mr. Travers.