of there being something in the background, a lever or revolver, or battalion in reserve. Ewins, suspicious and fearful, wondered: "Is it 'im?" He meant the blackmailer, of course. He tried shifty glances to see if he could read the heart of the man who sat before him and only looked at him occasionally.

"Want, eh? . . . Want's a fine thing: but chance is a better."

He did not say this nastily. He almost laughed as he spoke, as if he tried to show his courage and yet soothed his hearer at the same time.

"Yes," said Tugwell. "But I want a definite answer, Mr. Ewins." He knew his partner and meant to put an end to the dodging.

"You'll wait, Tugwell; you'll wait," said Ewins, and he lifted up his paper and hid behind it. He wondered if the shot would hit.

It missed.

"I won't." "What!"

Ewins tried hard in his shifty way to read Tugwell and he partially succeeded.

"I want an answer now."

"An' suppose I don't feel inclined to give it?" "Why not?"

"That's my business."

Tugwell nodded.

"There's a lot of things that get to be other folks' business, even though we'd like to keep 'em to ourselves."

Mr. Ewins had his mouth a little open. He nodded his head and scratched his beard. He was perplexed by Tugwell's manner and words.

"Aye

"I think we'd better settle it, don't you agree, Mr. Ewins?"

"You're very persistent. I think Dolly might like to say a word for 'erself."

"Certainly. But I want you to put in a word for me, if it's necessary. I hope it won't be necessary, but if it is, I rely on you."

"You've a damn sauce."

"Mr. Ewins!" said Tugwell with a tinge of added colour in his cheek, and then he conquered himself. He did not wish to quarrel with his prospective fatherin-law. Ewins noted the tone and colour and feared, but he did not wish to give way too soon or too easily. The bait for the new machine was slipping out of his hands.

"It'll save you a lot o' trouble if we agree," continued Tugwell.

Ewins moved awkwardly and wiped his glasses. "Save me trouble . . ." he said.

"Yes."

"What d'you mean?"

Tugwell hesitated.

"It's no good saying disagreeable things if we can avoid it. I could . . . er, I think it would be pleasanter if you said yes

"Aye. An' if I say no?"

"Then-since you ask for it-would you like to take your trial for perjury?"

Ewins looked like a hunted animal. His eyes were not expressive as a rule, but they were undeniably interesting at this moment. They were lashed with emotion. Hatred, fear, doubt, pleading, seemed to grip them by turns.

"Perjury!" He said it in a whisper. "What

the " But he could say no more. He could not discuss that. He feared, enormously. He wanted to brave it out, pretend it was a preposterous business mentioning such things to him, turn the tables . . . But he couldn't. Tugwell was too cold blooded. Ewins was flung back on the actuality of the situation. So Tugwell knew.

"There's any number of folk tell lies," he said very quietly, "lies as mean nowt. No 'arm in 'em. I

I

"You can trust me, Mr. Ewins," said Tugwell.' "I'm your partner for one thing and as your son-inlaw your welfare would be mine."

Ewins was scarcely able to speak. He wanted to ask a dozen questions but did not dare. He would like to clear himself-in his own way-but realised there was danger in speech.

"I suppose it's all right, Mr. Ewins," said Tugwell.

"If Dolly says so-aye."

"But if she says no, I want you to try and persuade her. Of course, I hope she will

“Aye, aye, aye. Only- Even now he did not dare to meet Tugwell's eye, so he snatched at his investment list. "Say nowt, eh?"

"Not a word," said Tugwell.

"I mean about you an' Dolly." The crafty man had another design in his head. "If you er sort o' get fixed up-say nowt about it for a bit, eh? Keep it quiet. That's a bargain? . . .”

"If you like," said Tugwell. "You mean you would prefer the news not to be made public for a little while."

"Aye, aye. Say nowt. An' tell your mother to

say nowt, too. But then she's not a gabblin' woman, is she?"

Tugwell smiled.

"No. Certainly, I shall be quite willing to keep it quiet for as long as you wish."

Ewins nodded.

"No good in talkin' for a bit." And he lifted up his investment list and tried to look at Tugwell to note the expression on his face.

Tugwell was content. He felt he had won a victory, which was a good omen for his quest of Dolly. While they were silent there was the noise of some one on the door step.

"She's 'ere," said Tugwell, a little excited. "Aye."

"Will you see her first?"

Ewins hesitated. He seemed inclined to say "No," but reflection came to his aid. He did not wish to offend Tugwell.

.

"I'll . can ax 'er."

just mention it," he said, "an' then you

Mrs. Ewins and Dolly entered.

CHAPTER XXII

MRS

DOLLY ACCEPTS

RS EWINS nodded faintly, with a wan smile of greeting.

"How are you, Mrs. Ewins?" said Amos brightly. "Let me help you with your parcels

Dolly, how are you?"

. . And Miss

"Very well, thank you," said Dolly placidly.

Both Mrs. Ewins and Dolly looked a little tired but not dissatisfied. The small excitement of a journey to Manchester, with the gossip of friends and the excitement of shopping had chased for a moment the general greyness of the outlook.

The parcels were put on the table and Mrs. Ewins sat down, giving a little start as she did so and putting her hand hastily to the bag which hung from her wrist. She opened it very cautiously and felt inside with singular care to see if a pipe she had bought for her son, David, was broken. She was relieved to find it was not.

"Lot of people in Manchester, Mrs. Ewins?" asked Tugwell.

"Yes-about the same."

"Very busy place," he said. "They say that Market Street-near the Exchange-is as busy as London." "Um.. ." remarked Mrs. Ewins, uninterested. "Money there, Tugwell," said Mr. Ewins.

"Yes. You like going to town. I expect, Miss