1 files changed, 612 insertions, 0 deletions

diff --git a/12214-0.txt b/12214-0.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..10fe396
--- /dev/null
+++ b/12214-0.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,612 @@
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12214 ***
+
+ODD CRAFT
+
+By W.W. Jacobs
+
+
+
+ADMIRAL PETERS
+
+Mr. George Burton, naval pensioner, sat at the door of his lodgings
+gazing in placid content at the sea.  It was early summer, and the air
+was heavy with the scent of flowers; Mr. Burton's pipe was cold and
+empty, and his pouch upstairs.  He shook his head gently as he realised
+this, and, yielding to the drowsy quiet of his surroundings, laid aside
+the useless pipe and fell into a doze.
+
+[Illustration: "Sat at the door of his lodgings gazing in placid content
+at the sea."]
+
+He was awakened half an hour later by the sound of footsteps.  A tall,
+strongly built man was approaching from the direction of the town, and
+Mr. Burton, as he gazed at him sleepily, began to wonder where he had
+seen him before.  Even when the stranger stopped and stood smiling down
+at him his memory proved unequal to the occasion, and he sat staring at
+the handsome, shaven face, with its little fringe of grey whisker,
+waiting for enlightenment.
+
+"George, my buck," said the stranger, giving him a hearty slap on the
+shoulder, "how goes it?"  "D--- _Bless_ my eyes, I mean," said Mr.
+Burton, correcting himself, "if it ain't Joe Stiles.  I didn't know you
+without your beard."
+
+"That's me," said the other.  "It's quite by accident I heard where you
+were living, George; I offered to go and sling my hammock with old Dingle
+for a week or two, and he told me.  Nice quiet little place, Seacombe.
+Ah, you were lucky to get your pension, George."
+
+"I deserved it," said Mr. Burton, sharply, as he fancied he detected
+something ambiguous in his friend's remark.
+
+"Of course you did," said Mr. Stiles; "so did I, but I didn't get it.
+Well, it's a poor heart that never rejoices.  What about that drink you
+were speaking of, George?"
+
+"I hardly ever touch anything now," replied his friend.
+
+"I was thinking about myself," said Mr. Stiles.  "I can't bear the stuff,
+but the doctor says I must have it.  You know what doctors are, George!"
+
+Mr. Burton did not deign to reply, but led the way indoors.
+
+"Very comfortable quarters, George," remarked Mr. Stiles, gazing round
+the room approvingly; "ship-shape and tidy.  I'm glad I met old Dingle.
+Why, I might never ha' seen you again; and us such pals, too."
+
+His host grunted, and from the back of a small cupboard, produced a
+bottle of whisky and a glass, and set them on the table.  After a
+momentary hesitation he found another glass.
+
+"Our noble selves," said Mr. Stiles, with a tinge of reproach in his
+tones, "and may we never forget old friendships."
+
+Mr. Burton drank the toast.  "I hardly know what it's like now, Joe," he
+said, slowly.  "You wouldn't believe how soon you can lose the taste for
+it."
+
+Mr. Stiles said he would take his word for it.  "You've got some nice
+little public-houses about here, too," he remarked.  "There's one I
+passed called the Cock and Flowerpot; nice cosy little place it would be
+to spend the evening in."
+
+"I never go there," said Mr. Burton, hastily.  "I--a friend o' mine here
+doesn't approve o' public-'ouses."
+
+"What's the matter with him?"  inquired his friend, anxiously.
+
+"It's--it's a 'er," said Mr. Burton, in some confusion.
+
+Mr. Stiles threw himself back in his chair and eyed him with amazement.
+Then, recovering his presence of mind, he reached out his hand for the
+bottle.
+
+"We'll drink her health," he said, in a deep voice.  "What's her name?"
+
+"Mrs. Dutton," was the reply.
+
+Mr. Stiles, with one hand on his heart, toasted her feelingly; then,
+filling up again, he drank to the "happy couple."
+
+"She's very strict about drink," said Mr. Burton, eyeing these
+proceedings with some severity.
+
+"Any--dibs?"  inquired Mr. Stiles, slapping a pocket which failed to ring
+in response.
+
+"She's comfortable," replied the other, awkwardly.  "Got a little
+stationer's shop in the town; steady, old-fashioned business.  She's
+chapel, and very strict."
+
+"Just what you want," remarked Mr. Stiles, placing his glass on the
+table.  "What d'ye say to a stroll?"
+
+Mr. Burton assented, and, having replaced the black bottle in the
+cupboard, led the way along the cliffs toward the town some half-mile
+distant, Mr. Stiles beguiling the way by narrating his adventures since
+they had last met.  A certain swagger and richness of deportment were
+explained by his statement that he had been on the stage.
+
+"Only walking on," he said, with a shake of his head.  "The only speaking
+part I ever had was a cough.  You ought to ha' heard that cough, George!"
+
+Mr. Burton politely voiced his regrets and watched him anxiously.  Mr.
+Stiles, shaking his head over a somewhat unsuccessful career, was making
+a bee-line for the Cock and Flowerpot.
+
+"Just for a small soda," he explained, and, once inside, changed his mind
+and had whisky instead.  Mr. Burton, sacrificing principle to friendship,
+had one with him.  The bar more than fulfilled Mr. Stiles's ideas as to
+its cosiness, and within the space of ten minutes he was on excellent
+terms with the regular clients.  Into the little, old-world bar, with its
+loud-ticking clock, its Windsor-chairs, and its cracked jug full of
+roses, he brought a breath of the bustle of the great city and tales of
+the great cities beyond the seas.  Refreshment was forced upon him, and
+Mr. Burton, pleased at his friend's success, shared mildly in his
+reception.  It was nine o'clock before they departed, and then they only
+left to please the landlord.
+
+"Nice lot o' chaps," said Mr. Stiles, as he stumbled out into the sweet,
+cool air.  "Catch hold--o' my--arm, George.  Brace me--up a bit."
+
+Mr. Burton complied, and his friend, reassured as to his footing, burst
+into song.  In a stentorian voice he sang the latest song from comic
+opera, and then with an adjuration to Mr. Burton to see what he was
+about, and not to let him trip, he began, in a lumbering fashion, to
+dance.
+
+Mr. Burton, still propping him up, trod a measure with fewer steps, and
+cast uneasy glances up the lonely road.  On their left the sea broke
+quietly on the beach below; on their right were one or two scattered
+cottages, at the doors of which an occasional figure appeared to gaze
+in mute astonishment at the proceedings.
+
+"Dance, George," said Mr. Stiles, who found his friend rather an
+encumbrance.
+
+"Hs'h!  Stop!" cried the frantic Mr. Burton, as he caught sight of a
+woman's figure bidding farewell in a lighted doorway.
+
+Mr. Stiles replied with a stentorian roar, and Mr. Burton, clinging
+despairingly to his jigging friend lest a worse thing should happen, cast
+an imploring glance at Mrs. Dutton as they danced by.  The evening was
+still light enough for him to see her face, and he piloted the corybantic
+Mr. Stiles the rest of the way home in a mood which accorded but ill with
+his steps.
+
+His manner at breakfast next morning was so offensive that Mr. Stiles,
+who had risen fresh as a daisy and been out to inhale the air on the
+cliffs, was somewhat offended.
+
+"You go down and see her," he said, anxiously.  "Don't lose a moment; and
+explain to her that it was the sea-air acting on an old sunstroke."
+
+"She ain't a fool," said Mr. Burton, gloomily.
+
+He finished his breakfast in silence, and, leaving the repentant Mr.
+Stiles sitting in the doorway with a pipe, went down to the widow's to
+make the best explanation he could think of on the way.  Mrs. Dutton's
+fresh-coloured face changed as he entered the shop, and her still good
+eyes regarded him with scornful interrogation.
+
+"I--saw you last night," began Mr. Burton, timidly.
+
+"I saw you, too," said Mrs. Dutton.  "I couldn't believe my eyesight at
+first."
+
+"It was an old shipmate of mine," said Mr. Burton.  "He hadn't seen me
+for years, and I suppose the sight of me upset 'im."
+
+"I dare say," replied the widow; "that and the Cock and Flowerpot, too.
+I heard about it."
+
+"He would go," said the unfortunate.
+
+"You needn't have gone," was the reply.
+
+"I 'ad to," said Mr. Burton, with a gulp; "he--he's an old officer o'
+mine, and it wouldn't ha' been discipline for me to refuse."
+
+"Officer?"  repeated Mrs. Dutton.
+
+"My old admiral," said Mr. Burton, with a gulp that nearly choked him.
+"You've heard me speak of Admiral Peters?"
+
+"_Admiral?_"  gasped the astonished widow.
+
+"What, a-carrying on like that?"
+
+"He's a reg'lar old sea-dog," said Mr. Burton.  "He's staying with me,
+but of course 'e don't want it known who he is.  I couldn't refuse to
+'ave a drink with 'im.  I was under orders, so to speak."
+
+"No, I suppose not," said Mrs. Dutton, softening.  "Fancy him staying
+with you!"
+
+"He just run down for the night, but I expect he'll be going 'ome in an
+hour or two," said Mr. Burton, who saw an excellent reason now for
+hastening his guest's departure.
+
+Mrs. Dutton's face fell.  "Dear me," she murmured, "I should have liked
+to have seen him; you have told me so much about him.  If he doesn't go
+quite so soon, and you would like to bring him here when you come
+to-night, I'm sure I should be very pleased."
+
+"I'll mention it to 'im," said Mr. Burton, marvelling at the change in
+her manner.
+
+"Didn't you say once that he was uncle to Lord Buckfast?" inquired Mrs.
+Dutton, casually.
+
+"Yes," said Mr. Burton, with unnecessary doggedness; "I did."
+
+"The idea of an admiral staying with you!" said Mrs. Dutton.
+
+"Reg'lar old sea-dog," said Mr. Burton again; "and, besides, he don't
+want it known.  It's a secret between us three, Mrs. Dutton."
+
+"To be sure," said the widow.  "You can tell the admiral that I shall not
+mention it to a soul," she added, mincingly.
+
+Mr. Burton thanked her and withdrew, lest Mr. Stiles should follow him up
+before apprised of his sudden promotion.  He found that gentleman,
+however, still sitting at the front door, smoking serenely.
+
+"I'll stay with you for a week or two," said Mr. Stiles, briskly, as soon
+as the other had told his story.  "It'll do you a world o' good to be
+seen on friendly terms with an admiral, and I'll put in a good word for
+you."
+
+Mr. Burton shook his head.  "No, she might find out," he said, slowly.
+"I think that the best thing is for you to go home after dinner, Joe, and
+just give 'er a look in on the way, p'r'aps.  You could say a lot o'
+things about me in 'arf an hour."
+
+"No, George," said Mr. Stiles, beaming on him kindly; "when I put my hand
+to the plough I don't draw back.  It's a good speaking part, too, an
+admiral's.  I wonder whether I might use old Peters's language."
+
+"Certainly not," said Mr. Burton, in alarm.
+
+"You don't know how particular she is."
+
+Mr. Stiles sighed, and said that he would do the best he could without
+it.  He spent most of the day on the beach smoking, and when evening came
+shaved himself with extreme care and brushed his serge suit with great
+perseverance in preparation for his visit.
+
+Mr. Burton performed the ceremony of introduction with some awkwardness;
+Mr. Stiles was affecting a stateliness of manner which was not without
+distinction; and Mrs. Dutton, in a black silk dress and the cameo brooch
+which had belonged to her mother, was no less important.  Mr. Burton had
+an odd feeling of inferiority.
+
+[Illustration: "Mr. Stiles was affecting a stateliness of manner which
+was not without distinction."]
+
+"It's a very small place to ask you to, Admiral Peters," said the widow,
+offering him a chair.
+
+"It's comfortable, ma'am," said Mr. Stiles, looking round approvingly.
+"Ah, you should see some of the palaces I've been in abroad; all show and
+no comfort.  Not a decent chair in the place.  And, as for the
+antimacassars----"
+
+"Are you making a long stay, Admiral Peters?"  inquired the delighted
+widow.
+
+"It depends," was the reply.  "My intention was just to pay a flying
+visit to my honest old friend Burton here--best man in my squadron--but
+he is so hospitable, he's been pressing me to stay for a few weeks."
+
+"But the admiral says he must get back to-morrow morning," interposed Mr.
+Burton, firmly.
+
+"Unless I have a letter at breakfast-time, Burton," said Mr. Stiles,
+serenely.
+
+Mr. Burton favoured him with a mutinous scowl.
+
+"Oh, I do hope you will," said Mrs. Dutton.
+
+"I have a feeling that I shall," said Mr. Stiles, crossing glances with
+his friend.  "The only thing is my people; they want me to join them at
+Lord Tufton's place."
+
+Mrs. Dutton trembled with delight at being in the company of a man with
+such friends.  "What a change shore-life must be to you after the perils
+of the sea!" she murmured.
+
+"Ah!" said Mr. Stiles.  "True!  True!"
+
+"The dreadful fighting," said Mrs. Dutton, closing her eyes and
+shuddering.
+
+"You get used to it," said the hero, simply.  "Hottest time I had I think
+was at the bombardment of Alexandria.  I stood alone.  All the men who
+hadn't been shot down had fled, and the shells were bursting round me
+like--like fireworks."
+
+The widow clasped her hands and shuddered again.
+
+"I was standing just behind 'im, waiting any orders he might give," said
+Mr. Burton.
+
+"Were you?" said Mr. Stiles, sharply--"were you?  I don't remember it,
+Burton."
+
+"Why," said Mr. Burton, with a faint laugh, "I was just behind you, sir.
+If you remember, sir, I said to you that it was pretty hot work."
+
+Mr. Stiles affected to consider.  "No, Burton," he said, bluffly--"no; so
+far as my memory goes I was the only man there."
+
+"A bit of a shell knocked my cap off, sir," persisted Mr. Burton, making
+laudable efforts to keep his temper.
+
+"That'll do, my man," said the other, sharply; "not another word.  You
+forget yourself."
+
+He turned to the widow and began to chat about "his people" again to
+divert her attention from Mr. Burton, who seemed likely to cause
+unpleasantness by either bursting a blood-vessel or falling into a fit.
+
+"My people have heard of Burton," he said, with a slight glance to see
+how that injured gentleman was progressing.  "He has often shared my
+dangers.  We have been in many tight places together.  Do you remember
+those two nights when we were hidden in the chimney at the palace of the
+Sultan of Zanzibar, Burton?"
+
+"I should think I do," said Mr. Burton, recovering somewhat.
+
+"Stuck so tight we could hardly breathe," continued the other.
+
+"I shall never forget it as long as I live," said Mr. Burton, who thought
+that the other was trying to make amends for his recent indiscretion.
+
+"Oh, do tell me about it, Admiral Peters," cried Mrs. Dutton.
+
+"Surely Burton has told you that?"  said Mr. Stiles.
+
+"Never breathed a word of it," said the widow, gazing somewhat
+reproachfully at the discomfited Mr. Burton.
+
+"Well, tell it now, Burton," said Mr. Stiles.
+
+"You tell it better than I do, sir," said the other.
+
+"No, no," said Mr. Stiles, whose powers of invention were not always to
+be relied upon.  "You tell it; it's your story."
+
+The widow looked from one to the other.  "It's your story, sir," said Mr.
+Burton.
+
+"No, I won't tell it," said Mr. Stiles.  "It wouldn't be fair to you,
+Burton.  I'd forgotten that when I spoke.  Of course, you were young at
+the time, still----"
+
+"I done nothing that I'm ashamed of, sir," said Mr. Burton, trembling
+with passion.
+
+"I think it's very hard if I'm not to hear it," said Mrs. Dutton, with
+her most fascinating air.
+
+Mr. Stiles gave her a significant glance, and screwing up his lips nodded
+in the direction of Mr. Burton.
+
+"At any rate, you were in the chimney with me, sir," said that
+unfortunate.
+
+"Ah!" said the other, severely.  "But what was I there for, my man?"
+
+Mr. Burton could not tell him; he could only stare at him in a frenzy of
+passion and dismay.
+
+"What were you there for, Admiral Peters?"  inquired Mrs. Dutton.
+
+"I was there, ma'am," said the unspeakable Mr. Stiles, slowly--"I was
+there to save the life of Burton.  I never deserted my men---never.
+Whatever scrapes they got into I always did my best to get them out.
+News was brought to me that Burton was suffocating in the chimney of the
+Sultan's favourite wife, and I----"
+
+"Sultan's favourite wife!"  gasped Mrs. Dutton, staring hard at Mr.
+Burton, who had collapsed in his chair and was regarding the ingenious
+Mr. Stiles with open-mouthed stupefaction.  "Good gracious!  I--I never
+heard of such a thing.  I am surprised!"
+
+"So am I," said Mr. Burton, thickly.  "I--I---"
+
+"How did you escape, Admiral Peters?"  inquired the widow, turning from
+the flighty Burton in indignation.
+
+Mr. Stiles shook his head.  "To tell you that would be to bring the
+French Consul into it," he said, gently.  "I oughtn't to have mentioned
+the subject at all.  Burton had the good sense not to."
+
+The widow murmured acquiescence, and stole a look at the prosaic figure
+of the latter gentleman which was full of scornful curiosity.  With some
+diffidence she invited the admiral to stay to supper, and was obviously
+delighted when he accepted.
+
+In the character of admiral Mr. Stiles enjoyed himself amazingly, his one
+regret being that no discriminating theatrical manager was present to
+witness his performance.  His dignity increased as the evening wore on,
+and from good-natured patronage of the unfortunate Burton he progressed
+gradually until he was shouting at him.  Once, when he had occasion to
+ask Mr. Burton if he intended to contradict him, his appearance was so
+terrible that his hostess turned pale and trembled with excitement.
+
+Mr. Burton adopted the air for his own use as soon as they were clear of
+Mrs. Dutton's doorstep, and in good round terms demanded of Mr. Stiles
+what he meant by it.
+
+"It was a difficult part to play, George," responded his friend.  "We
+ought to have rehearsed it a bit.  I did the best I could."
+
+"Best you could?"  stormed Mr. Burton.  "Telling lies and ordering me
+about?"
+
+"I had to play the part without any preparation, George," said the other,
+firmly.  "You got yourself into the difficulty by saying that I was the
+admiral in the first place.  I'll do better next time we go."
+
+Mr. Burton, with a nasty scowl, said that there was not going to be any
+next time, but Mr. Stiles smiled as one having superior information.
+Deaf first to hints and then to requests to seek his pleasure elsewhere,
+he stayed on, and Mr. Burton was soon brought to realise the difficulties
+which beset the path of the untruthful.
+
+The very next visit introduced a fresh complication, it being evident to
+the most indifferent spectator that Mr. Stiles and the widow were getting
+on very friendly terms.  Glances of unmistakable tenderness passed
+between them, and on the occasion of the third visit Mr. Burton sat an
+amazed and scandalised spectator of a flirtation of the most pronounced
+description.  A despairing attempt on his part to lead the conversation
+into safer and, to his mind, more becoming channels only increased his
+discomfiture.  Neither of them took any notice of it, and a minute later
+Mr. Stiles called the widow a "saucy little baggage," and said that she
+reminded him of the Duchess of Marford.
+
+[Illustration: "'Mr. Stiles called the widow a 'saucy little baggage.'"]
+
+"I used to think she was the most charming woman in England," he said,
+meaningly.
+
+Mrs. Dutton simpered and looked down; Mr. Stiles moved his chair a little
+closer to her, and then glanced thoughtfully at his friend.
+
+"Burton," he said.
+
+"Sir," snapped the other.
+
+"Run back and fetch my pipe for me," said Mr. Stiles.  "I left it on the
+mantelpiece."
+
+Mr. Burton hesitated, and, the widow happening to look away, shook his
+fist at his superior officer.
+
+"Look sharp," said Mr. Stiles, in a peremptory voice.
+
+"I'm very sorry, sir," said Mr. Burton, whose wits were being sharpened
+by misfortune, "but I broke it."
+
+"Broke it?"  repeated the other.
+
+"Yes, sir," said Mr. Burton.  "I knocked it on the floor and trod on it
+by accident; smashed it to powder."
+
+Mr. Stiles rated him roundly for his carelessness, and asked him whether
+he knew that it was a present from the Italian Ambassador.
+
+"Burton was always a clumsy man," he said, turning to the widow.  "He had
+the name for it when he was on the _Destruction_ with me; 'Bungling
+Burton' they called him."
+
+He divided the rest of the evening between flirting and recounting
+various anecdotes of Mr. Burton, none of which were at all flattering
+either to his intelligence or to his sobriety, and the victim, after one
+or two futile attempts at contradiction, sat in helpless wrath as he saw
+the infatuation of the widow.  They were barely clear of the house before
+his pent-up emotions fell in an avalanche of words on the faithless Mr.
+Stiles.
+
+"I can't help being good-looking," said the latter, with a smirk.
+
+"Your good looks wouldn't hurt anybody," said Mr. Burton, in a grating
+voice; "it's the admiral business that fetches her.  It's turned 'er
+head."
+
+Mr. Stiles smiled.  "She'll say 'snap' to my 'snip' any time," he
+remarked.  "And remember, George, there'll always be a knife and fork
+laid for you when you like to come."
+
+"I dessay," retorted Mr. Burton, with a dreadful sneer.  "Only as it
+happens I'm going to tell 'er the truth about you first thing to-morrow
+morning.  If I can't have 'er you sha'n't."
+
+"That'll spoil your chance, too," said Mr. Stiles.  "She'd never forgive
+you for fooling her like that.  It seems a pity neither of us should get
+her."
+
+"You're a sarpent," exclaimed Mr. Burton, savagely--"a sarpent that I've
+warmed in my bosom and----"
+
+"There's no call to be indelicate, George," said Mr. Stiles, reprovingly,
+as he paused at the door of the house.  "Let's sit down and talk it over
+quietly."
+
+Mr. Burton followed him into the room and, taking a chair, waited.
+
+"It's evident she's struck with me," said Mr. Stiles, slowly; "it's also
+evident that if you tell her the truth it might spoil my chances.  I
+don't say it would, but it might.  That being so, I'm agreeable to going
+back without seeing her again by the six-forty train to-morrow morning if
+it's made worth my while."
+
+"Made worth your while?"  repeated the other.
+
+"Certainly," said the unblushing Mr. Stiles.  "She's not a bad-looking
+woman--for her age--and it's a snug little business."
+
+Mr. Burton, suppressing his choler, affected to ponder.  "If 'arf a
+sovereign--" he said, at last.
+
+"Half a fiddlestick!" said the other, impatiently.  "I want ten pounds.
+You've just drawn your pension, and, besides, you've been a saving man
+all your life."
+
+"Ten pounds?" gasped the other.  "D'ye think I've got a gold-mine in the
+back garden?"
+
+Mr. Stiles leaned back in his chair and crossed his feet.  "I don't go
+for a penny less," he said, firmly.  "Ten pounds and my ticket back.  If
+you call me any more o' those names I'll make it twelve."
+
+"And what am I to explain to Mrs. Dutton?"  demanded Mr. Burton, after a
+quarter of an hour's altercation.
+
+"Anything you like," said his generous friend.  "Tell her I'm engaged to
+my cousin, and our marriage keeps being put off and off on account of my
+eccentric behaviour.  And you can say that that was caused by a splinter
+of a shell striking my head.  Tell any lies you like; I shall never turn
+up again to contradict them.  If she tries to find out things about the
+admiral, remind her that she promised to keep his visit here secret."
+
+For over an hour Mr. Burton sat weighing the advantages and disadvantages
+of this proposal, and then--Mr. Stiles refusing to seal the bargain
+without--shook hands upon it and went off to bed in a state of mind
+hovering between homicide and lunacy.
+
+He was up in good time next morning, and, returning the shortest possible
+answers to the remarks of Mr. Stiles, who was in excellent feather, went
+with him to the railway station to be certain of his departure.
+
+It was a delightful morning, cool and bright, and, despite his
+misfortunes.  Mr. Burton's spirits began to rise as he thought of his
+approaching deliverance.  Gloom again overtook him at the booking-office,
+where the unconscionable Mr. Stiles insisted firmly upon a first-class
+ticket.
+
+"Who ever heard of an admiral riding third?"  he demanded, indignantly.
+
+"But they don't know you're an admiral," urged Mr. Burton, trying to
+humour him.
+
+"No; but I feel like one," said Mr. Stiles, slapping his pocket.  "I've
+always felt curious to see what it feels like travelling first-class;
+besides, you can tell Mrs. Dutton."
+
+"I could tell 'er that in any case," returned Mr. Burton.
+
+Mr. Stiles looked shocked, and, time pressing, Mr. Burton, breathing so
+hard that it impeded his utterance, purchased a first-class ticket and
+conducted him to the carriage.  Mr. Stiles took a seat by the window and
+lolling back put his foot up on the cushions opposite.  A large bell rang
+and the carriage-doors were slammed.
+
+"Good-bye, George," said the traveller, putting his head to the window.
+"I've enjoyed my visit very much."
+
+"Good riddance," said Mr. Burton, savagely.
+
+
+[Illustration: "'Good riddance,' said Mr. Burton, savagely."]
+
+Mr. Stiles shook his head.  "I'm letting you off easy," he said, slowly.
+"If it hadn't ha' been for one little thing I'd have had the widow
+myself."
+
+"What little thing?"  demanded the other, as the train began to glide
+slowly out.
+
+"My wife," said Mr. Stiles, as a huge smile spread slowly over his face.
+"Good-bye, George, and don't forget to give my love when you go round."
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Admiral Peters, by W.W. Jacobs
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12214 ***