"You don't say so!" said Mr. Toby. "Well, I don't see anything so very bad about it. I'd a' done it myself if I'd been in his place. What do you mean by saying that my Freddie's reprehensible? I won't have nobody callin' him names, I won't, and what's more----" "No offense, Toby! No offense!" cried Mr. Punch. "Sorry, Hi assure you. Wery reprehensible of me to s'y such a thing. Wery. Pray be calm; be calm." "Well, then," grumbled Toby, "don't you go and say nothing about Freddie, because--Anyway, let's have a look at the map." At that moment there came a timid knock upon the door. "Who next?" said Toby. "Come in!" CHAPTER VIII CELLULOID CUFFS AND A SILK HAT The door opened, and there entered a poor-looking elderly man, bowing and scraping as he came, and saluting the company with an old rusty dented tall hat which he carried in his hand. The most striking thing about him was that he had a wooden leg. His hair was grey and thin, and his face was not very clean; there were signs of tobacco at the corners of his mouth. His clothes were frayed and patched, and there was a good deal of grease on his vest; he wore a celluloid collar without any necktie, and round celluloid cuffs; his coat-sleeves were much too short, and his cuffs hung out certainly three inches. Strange to say, his collar and cuffs were spotlessly clean, and presented quite a contrast to his very untidy face and clothes; but then, celluloid is easy to clean; much less trouble than washing the face. As he stumped into the room, he kept bowing humbly from one to another, and bobbing his old hat up and down in his hand. "Ahem!" he said, making another bow. "I was just going by, and I thought I would drop in to--er--ahem!--I hope I am not in the way?" "Oh, come in," said Toby, not very graciously. "As long as you are here, you might as well stay. This is Mr. Punch, and this is Freddie." The elderly man bowed to Freddie, and went up to Mr. Punch and shook him cordially by the hand. He put his mouth quite close to Mr. Punch's ear, and lowered his voice, and said: "Ahem! I'm delighted to know you, sir. I trust you are well. I have seen you often, but not to speak to. Ahem!" He lowered his voice again, and spoke very confidentially into Mr. Punch's ear. "The fact is, sir, that as I was going by, I suddenly found that I had left my tobacco pouch at home; most unfortunate; and I came in with the hope that perhaps--er--ahem! Very seldom forget my tobacco; very seldom indeed; perfectly lost without it; do you--er, ahem!--do you happen to have such a thing about you as a--er--ahem!--a small portion of--er--smoking tobacco? I should be very much obliged!" "Sorry," said Mr. Punch, stiffly, backing away. "Hi never use tobacco in any way, shape or form." The elderly man looked much disappointed, and sighed. He turned to Toby, and bowed and smiled hopefully. "Perhaps Mr. Littleback--" he began. "Not on your life," said Toby. "You don't get no tobacco out of me, and that's flat."