“I quite understand,” he said. There was a moment's ominous silence. The barman withdrew to the further end of his domain and busied himself cleaning some glasses. Suddenly the door was swung open. A man entered whose appearance alone was calculated to inspire a certain amount of fear. He was tall, but his height escaped notice by reason of the extraordinary breadth of his shoulders. He had a coarse and vicious face, a crop of red hair, and an unshaven growth of the same upon his face. He wore what appeared to be the popular dress in the neighbourhood--a pair of trousers suspended by a belt, and a dirty flannel shirt. His hands and even his chest, where the shirt fell away, were discoloured by yellow stains. He looked around the room at first with an air of disappointment. Then he caught sight of Sir Timothy standing at the counter, and he brightened up. “Where's all the crowd, Tom?” he asked the barman. “Scared of you, I reckon,” was the brief reply. “There was plenty here a few minutes ago.” “Scared of me, eh?” the other repeated, staring hard at Sir Timothy. “Did you 'ear that, guvnor?” “I heard it,” Sir Timothy acquiesced. Billy the Tanner began to cheer up. He walked all round this stranger. “A toff! A big toff! I'll 'ave a drink with you, guvnor,” he declared, with a note of incipient truculence in his tone. The barman had already reached up for two glasses but Sir Timothy shook his head. “I think not,” he said. There was a moment's silence. The barman made despairing signs at Sir Timothy. Billy the Tanner was moistening his lips with his tongue. “Why not?” he demanded. “Because I don't know you and I don't like you,” was the bland reply. Billy the Tanner wasted small time upon preliminaries. He spat upon his hands. “I dunno you and I don't like you,” he retorted. “D'yer know wot I'm going to do?” “I have no idea,” Sir Timothy confessed. “I'm going to make you look so that your own mother wouldn't know you--then I'm going to pitch you into the street,” he added, with an evil grin. “That's wot we does with big toffs who come 'anging around 'ere.” “Do you?” Sir Timothy said calmly. “Perhaps my friend may have something to say about that.” The man of war was beginning to be worked up. “Where's your big friend?” he shouted. “Come on! I'll take on the two of you.” The man who had met Sir Timothy in the street had risen to his feet. He strolled up to the two. Billy the Tanner eyed him hungrily. “The two of you, d'yer 'ear?” he shouted. “And 'ere's just a flick for the toff to be going on with!”