He took a sip from his glass, and then his face
softened as the faint sounds of a distant uproar broke upon his ear.
"What's that?" said a customer.
The landlord, who was glancing at the paper, put it down and listened.
"Sounds like old Todd at it again," he said, coming round to the front of
the bar.
The noise came closer. "It is old Todd," said another customer, and
hastily finishing his beer moved with the others to the door. Captain
Brisket, with a fine air of indifference, lounged after them, and peering
over their shoulders obtained a good view of the approaching disturbance.
His three patrons, with a hopeless attempt to appear unconcerned, were
coming down the road, while close behind a respectable-looking old
gentleman with a long, white beard and a voice like a foghorn almost
danced with excitement. They quickened their pace as they neared the
inn, and Mr. Chalk, throwing appearances to the winds, almost dived
through the group at the door. He was at once followed by Mr. Tredgold,
but Mr. Stobell, black with wrath, paused in the doorway.
[Illustration: "His three patrons, with a hopeless attempt to appear
unconcerned, were coming down the road.
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