"There's no hosiery department on the train," said Tony: "railway companies are very unimaginative. If there were, I'd buy a decent suit to travel in. Do tell me why you came in in that unconventional way." "Sorry," said the man, "but I can't do that. It's all right, you know: I have a ticket." "Of course," agreed Tony politely, and relapsed into musing. Here was a perfect windfall with enormous possibilities. Decidedly he must not lose sight of his new companion; he would get out at Shereling, too. Tony studied him from half-shut eyes: he looked a decent little chap--almost jolly ... rather like a schoolboy off for a holiday, expecting some excellent pleasure and glorying in the prospect. Also, he was mysterious and secretive, though to outward appearance he was a prosperous business man in a small way--a head clerk or under-manager perhaps. There was something in his face, too, an innocent zest, that appealed to the blase young man. "Yes, old cock," thought Tony, "I must freeze on to you, whether you like it or not." After a silence the old cock began to crow, and soon there was a brisk conversation in progress. They talked chiefly of trivial things, but held each other's interest nevertheless. Tony's outlook and the newcomer's were wide asunder, as also were their experiences. It was the elder man who asked most of the questions, the younger who was responsible for the answers. But they found a bond of union in a Pepysian interest in the novel and unusual, though each approached it from a different standpoint. Tony was a master of external knowledge and sought for something fresh; the other, a babe, welcomed the stalest facts as discoveries from a new world. "I wish," he said, and with a sigh, "that we were going to travel together for a while." Tony's heart leaped. "You are an interesting young man ... but no! that is impossible--it would never do." Tony did not reply. He felt sure that the fish was almost hooked, but he did not wish to spoil things by seeming too eager. But he resolved that ere the journey came to an end he would land his fish and spend a few days in his company. He did not think there would be a slackening of the interest: if there were, why, he could easily go back to town. Meanwhile---- The train pulled up. "Hallo!" said the elderly man. "This train is billed as a non-stop to Shereling. Why on earth----" He leaned out of the window and beckoned the guard. "What's the matter?" he asked. "The strike," the guard answered. "You see, sir, there are ten or fifteen thousand men on strike here just now, and it seems they've got a little out of 'and." "But what," asked Tony's companion, effectually filling the window,--"what has that to do with the trains? Why----" "You see, sir," continued the guard with an apologetic air, "they've got a bit out of 'and. I don't know the rights of it--they do say they're underpaid, though the employers say they spend their wages on whippet-racing. Anyway, they're out----"