He cocked his bald head and peered at Derrick thoughtfully.

"Of course, they'd say in the books it's because you're a 'gentleman.'

Well, up to now, I've always given the grin to that highfulutin notion;

but--I dunno. Anyhow, I'm much obliged to you."

He held out a grubby paw and shook the now very much embarrassed Derrick

by the hand.

"Of course, I'm going to raise your screw. We'll say, double it, and no

palaver."

Derrick expressed his thanks, but Mr. Bloxford waved him away.

"As for that pig Jackman, we'll fire him out, of course."

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Derrick pleaded for the man, and Bloxford yielded, but with a shrug of

the shoulders and a dissenting shake of the head.

"All right," he said, grudgingly. "It's up to you, of course. But don't

you forget what I told you when you and he had a shindy on board. He's

the kind of man who'll wait and lay for you when he gets a chance."

Derrick laughed easily as he proceeded to count the money.

They drew good audiences for the whole of their stay, and then prepared

to move on. As before, the heaviest of the responsibility fell on

Derrick's shoulders, but it was made as light as possible for him by the

good will the company bore him, which it expressed by rendering prompt

obedience and willing assistance. Jackman had given no further trouble,

but had gone about his work with a sullen demeanour, and he markedly

avoided any meeting with Derrick, who treated him exactly as he treated

every other member of the company.

On the morning of their departure Derrick was standing in the centre of

the tent, superintending the displacement and packing up of the seats

and other properties. He was immediately beneath a large and heavy

circular lamp which afforded the principal light, and up above him was

Jackman, who had been sent to lower it. He was waiting for the word from

the chief baggage man, who was standing at a little distance from

Derrick.

Derrick was moving away, when suddenly he heard a warning cry. He looked

up and saw the mass of metal descending, though the baggage man had not

given the word. It was a swift upward glance, and as swiftly he swerved

aside. Then he felt a sharp but heavy pain on his shoulder, and fell. He

was conscious of a number of voices shouting, of vague forms hurrying

towards him, then all became a blank.

When he recovered consciousness he found himself lying in one of the

living vans. He tried to move, but the upper part of his body felt as if

it were made of lead. He opened his eyes and looked round him. Someone,

a tall figure, bent over him, and laid a hand on his forehead. He looked

up and, with a struggle for consciousness, saw that the face above him

was Isabel's.




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