“It’s in the family,” said the carpenter, who had been uneasily watching his wife’s face.

“Both of you seem to notice a lot,” said Mrs. Tidger; “much more than you used to.”

Mr. Tidger, who was of a nervous and sensitive disposition, coughed again.

“You ought to take something for that cough,” said Mr. Wiggett, considerately.

“Gin and beer,” said Mr. Miller, with the air of a specialist.

“Bed’s the best thing for it,” said Mrs. Tidger, whose temper was beginning to show signs of getting out of hand.

Mr. Tidger rose and looked awkwardly at his visitors; Mr. Wiggett got up, and pretending to notice the time, said he must be going, and looked at Mr. Miller.  That gentleman, who was apparently deep in some knotty problem, was gazing at the floor, and oblivious for the time to his surroundings.

“Come along,” said Wiggett, with feigned heartiness, slapping him on the back.

Mr. Miller, looking for a moment as though he would like to return the compliment, came back to everyday life, and bidding the company good-night, stepped to the door, accompanied by his rival.  It was immediately shut with some violence.

“They seem in a hurry,” said Wiggett.  “I don’t think I shall go there again.”

“I don’t think I shall,” said Mr. Miller.

After this neither of them was surprised to meet there again the next night, and indeed for several nights.  The carpenter and his wife, who did not want the money to go out of the family, and were also afraid of offending Mrs. Pullen, were at their wits’ end what to do.  Ultimately it was resolved that Tidger, in as delicate a manner as possible, was to hint to her that they were after her money.  He was so vague and so delicate that Mrs. Pullen misunderstood him, and fancying that he was trying to borrow half a crown, made him a present of five shillings.

It was evident to the slower-going Mr. Miller that his rival’s tongue was giving him an advantage which only the ever-watchful presence of the carpenter and his wife prevented him from pushing to the fullest advantage.  In these circumstances he sat for two hours after breakfast one morning in deep cogitation, and after six pipes got up with a twinkle in his slow eyes which his brother dealers had got to regard as a danger signal.

He had only the glimmering of an idea at first, but after a couple of pints at the “Bell” everything took shape, and he cast his eyes about for an assistant.  They fell upon a man named Smith, and the dealer, after some thought, took up his glass and went over to him.

“I want you to do something for me,” he remarked, in a mysterious voice.

“Ah, I’ve been wanting to see you,” said Smith, who was also a dealer in a small way.  “One o’ them hins I bought off you last week is dead.”

“I’ll give you another for it,” said Miller.

“And the others are so forgetful,” continued Mr. Smith.