“But there are in England.” “Why, you told me you were of Welsh parents.” “No, I didn’t. You told yourself so.” “But how did you come to know Welsh?” “Why, that’s my bit of a secret.” “But you are of the United States?” “Never knew that before.” “Mr., you flummox me.” “Just as you do the English drapery travellers. Ah, you’re a cute un—but do you think it altogether a cute trick to stow all those sovereigns in that drawer?” “Who should take them out, Mr.?” “Who should take them out? Why, any of the swell mob, that should chance to be in the house, might unlock the drawer with their flash keys as soon as your back is turned, and take out all the coin.” “But there are none of the swell mob here.” “How do you know that?” said I; “the swell mob travel wide about—how do you know that I am not one of them?” “The swell mob don’t speak Welsh, I guess.” “Don’t be too sure of that,” said I—“the swell coves spare no expense for their education—so that they may be able to play parts according to circumstances. I strongly advise you, Mr., to put that bag somewhere else, lest something should happen to it.” “Well, Mr., I’ll take your advice. These are my quarters, and I was merely going to keep the money here for convenience’ sake. The money belongs to the bank, so it is but right to stow it away in the bank safe. I certainly should be loth to leave it here with you in the room, after what you have said.” He then got up, unlocked the drawer, took out the bag, and with a “good night, Mr.,” left the room.