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 to sit in front, sir, I fancy you'd find it quite a bit warmer."

"I'm all right, but don't be an ass, Wattles. Slide over here and get some of this over you."

"Thank you, Mister Tom, but I'm very comfortable."

"You do as I tell you," commanded Tom ferociously. "Mind you, Wattles, you and that pal of yours there may be able to get the best of me when I'm not looking for it, but I can lick either one or both of you in a fair scrap. Here, lay this across and sit on the edge of it."

"Yes, sir. And I'm quite certain you'd be a match for us both, Mister Tom, and no mistake."

"I'll say so," agreed Tom, mollified. "Just the same, Wattles, I've got to hand it to you for turning a neat trick. I suppose, though, Loring planned that, eh?"

"No, sir," replied Wattles modestly. "Mister Loring just said I was to bring you back. Beyond that, sir, I was obliged to proceed quite on my own. Sorry, sir, that the exigency of the occasion demanded a certain amount of coercion."

"Coercion! Is that what you call it, Wattles? Man, you're a scream!"

"Should I have said compulsion?" asked Wattles anxiously.

"I'll say you should!" Tom's spirits were rising rapidly. Of course, he hadn't meant to return to Wyndham; hadn't wanted to, indeed; but the matter had been taken out of his hands, and, now that the die