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 guard, who had Mr. Marker by the collar in a trice and twisted him out on to the platform with the sharp demand:

“Now, young man, your name and address, and quick about it.”

“What for?” inquired Marker, openly insolent.

“Defrauding the Company by traveling without previously paying the fare, contrary to By-law 18.”

The spy broke into a jeering cackle. “You’ve only got his word for it that I haven’t got a ticket,” he replied. “I nipped under the seat because I thought he was a lunatic, and a gent can travel that way, I reckon, if he’s paid his shot. Here’s the ticket, Mister. I’ll make tracks to another carriage.”

With which he produced a first-class ticket all in order and walked off along the platform, leaving the Duke and the guard looking after him, the former with a curious smile, the latter with dismayed perplexity.

“Well, of all the funny games!” exclaimed the official. “He must have got in at Elstree while I was attending to that there toff, and blessed if he ain’t scooting into the same compartment with him now. Your Grace will