"Oh, hang the fellow's family," laughed Saulisbury. "We are not a poorhouse, y' kneow--or a house for inebriates. I confess I deon't mind these things as you do, old man. I'm a Britisher, y' kneow, and I haven't got intristed in your bloody radicalism, y' kneow. I'm in for Sam Saulisbury 'from the word go,' as you fellows say." "And you don't get along any better--I mean in a money way." "I kneow, and that's too deuced queeah. Your blawsted sentimentality seems note to do you any harm. Still I put it in this way, y' kneow--if he weren't so deadly sentimental, what couldn't the fellow do, y' kneow?" The Major laughed. "Well, I can't turn Jackson off, even for you." "Well, deon't do it then--only if he gets drunk agine and drops a match into the milk can, fancy! and blows us all up, deon't come back on me, that's all." They both laughed at this, and the Major said: "This is the young man I told you about, Mr.--a----" "Ramsey is my name," said Arthur, rising. "Mr. Ramsey, this is my partner, Mr. Saulisbury." "Haow de do," said Saulisbury, with a nod and a glance, which made Arthur hot with wrath, coming as it did after the talk he had heard. Saulisbury did not take the trouble to rise. He merely swung round on his swivel chair and eyed the young stranger. Arthur was not thick-skinned, and he had been struck for the first time by the lash of caste, and it raised a welt. He choked with his rage and stood silent, while Saulisbury looked him over, and passed upon his good points, as if he were a horse. There was something in the lazy lift of his eyebrows which maddened Arthur. "He looks a decent young fellow enough; I suppeose he'll do to try," Saulisbury said at last, with cool indifference. "I'll use him, Majah." "By Heaven, you won't!" Arthur burst out. "I wouldn't work for you at any price." He turned on his heel and rushed out. He heard the Major calling to him as he went down the stairs, but refused to turn back. The tears of impotent rage filled his eyes, his fists strained together, and the curses pushed slowly from his lips. He wished he had leaped upon his insulter where he sat--the smooth, smiling hound! He was dizzy with rage. For the first time in his life he had been trampled upon, and could not, at least he had not, struck his assailant. As he stood on the street-corner thinking of these things and waiting for the mist of rage to pass from his eyes, he felt a hand on his arm, and turned to Major Thayer, standing by his side. "Look here, Ramsey, you mustn't mind Sam. He's an infernal Englishman, and can't understand our way of meeting men. He didn't mean to hurt your feelings." Arthur looked down at him silently, and there was a look in his eyes which went straight to the Major's heart. "Come, Ramsey, I want to give you a place. Never mind this. You will really be working for me, anyhow."