Page:The Strand Magazine (Volume 40).djvu/200

 appeared a large bulldog of a dingy-white colour.

Keggs, swathed in a green baize apron, was meditatively polishing Mr. Keith's silver in his own private pantry, humming an air as he worked, when Frederick, the footman, came to him. Frederick was a supercilious young man, with long legs and a receding chin.

"Polishing the silver, old top?" he inquired, genially.

"In answer to your question, Frederick," replied Keggs, with dignity, "I ham polishing the silver."

Frederick, in his opinion, needed to be kept in his place.

"His nibs is asking for you," said Frederick.

"You allude to"

"Bertie," said Frederick, definitely.

"If," said Keggs, "Lord 'Erbert Fendall desires to see me, I will go to 'im at once."

"Another bit of luck for 'Erbert," said Frederick, cordially. "'E's in the smoking-room."

"Your lordship wished to see me?"

Lord Bertie, who was rubbing his shin reflectively with his back to the door, wheeled, and glared balefully at the saintly figure before him.

"You bally old swindler!" he cried.

"Your lordship!"

"Do you know I could have you sent to prison for obtaining money under false pretences?"

"Your lordship!"

"Don't stand there pretending not to know what I mean."

"If your lordship would explain, I 'ave no doubt"

"Explain! By Jove, I'll explain, if that's what you want. What do you mean by doping Reuben and palming him off on me as another dog? Is that plain enough?"

"The words is intelligible," conceded Keggs, "but the accusation is overwhelming."

"You bally old rogue!"

"Your lordship," said Keggs, soothingly, "'as been deceived, has I predicted, by the