Page:The history of Mr. Polly.djvu/51

 of the grave and Reverend Signor with the palatial Boko suggested that the word was not so good as he had thought it. The rest of the bench was frankly puzzled and there were hasty consultations.

“You mean ’E ’As a ’Ot temper,” said the presiding magistrate.

“I mean ’E ’As a ’Ot temper,” replied Polly, magically incapable of aspirates for the moment.

“You don’t mean ’E ketches cholera.”

“I mean—he’s easily put out.”

“Then why can’t you say so?” said the presiding magistrate.

Parsons was bound over.

He came for his luggage while every one was in the shop, and Garvace would not let him invade the business to say good-by. When Mr. Polly went upstairs for margarine and bread and tea, he slipped on into the dormitory at once to see what was happening further in the Parsons case. But Parsons had vanished. There was no Parsons, no trace of Parsons. His cubicle was swept and garnished. For the first time in his life Polly had a sense of irreparable loss.

A minute or so after Platt dashed in.

“Ugh!” he said, and then discovered Polly. Polly was leaning out of the window and did not look around. Platt went up to him.

“He’s gone already,” said Platt. “Might have stopped to say good-by to a chap.”