Mr Sandbach and Mr Gale frequently threw down the glove to each other in this agreeable way.  Either they asked conundrums, or they set test questions, or they suggested feats.  When Mr Sandbach discovered at a Christmas party that you cannot stand with your left side close against a wall and then lift your right leg, his first impulse was to confront Mr Gale with the trick.  When Mr Gale read in a facetious paper an article on the lack of accurate observation in the average man, entitled, “Do ’bus horses wear blinkers?” his opening remark to Mr Sandbach at their next meeting was:  “I say, Sandbach, do ’bus horses wear blinkers?  Answer quick!” And a phrase constantly in their mouths was, “I’ll try that on Gale;” or, “I wonder whether Sandbach knows that?” All that was required to make their relations artistically complete was an official referee for counting the scores.  Such a basis of friendship may seem bizarre, but it is by no means uncommon in the Five Towns, and perhaps elsewhere.

So that when Mr Sandbach defied Mr Gale to induce the shabby man to move from where he stood, the nostrils of the combatants twitched with the scent of battle.

Mr Gale conceived his tactics instantly and put them into execution.  He walked along the platform some little distance, then turned, and taking a handful of silver from his pocket, began to count it.  He passed slowly by the shabby man, almost brushing his shoulder; and, just as he passed, he left fall half-a-crown.  The half-crown rolled round in a circle and lay down within a yard and a half of the shabby man.  The shabby man calmly glanced at the half-crown and then at Mr Gale, who, strolling on, magnificently pretended to be unaware of his loss; and then the shabby man resumed his dreamy stare into the distance.

“Hi!” cried Mr Sandbach after Mr Gale.  “You’ve dropped something.”

It was a great triumph for Mr Sandbach.

“I told you you wouldn’t get him to move!” said Mr Sandbach, proudly, having rejoined his friend at another part of the platform.

“What’s the game?” demanded Mr Gale, frankly acknowledging by tone and gesture that he was defeated.

“Perfectly simple,” answered Mr Sandbach, condescendingly, “when you know.  I’ll tell you—­it’s really very funny.  Just as everyone was rushing to get into the London express I heard a coin drop on the platform, and I saw it rolling.  It was half-a-sovereign.  I couldn’t be sure who dropped it, but I think it was a lady.  Anyhow, no one claimed it.  I was just going to pick it up when that chap came by.  He saw it, and he put his foot on it as quick as lightning, and stood still.  He didn’t notice that I was after it too.  So I drew back.  I thought I’d wait and see what happens.”

“He looks as if he could do with half-a-sovereign,” said Mr Gale.

“Yes; he’s only a station loafer.”

“Then why doesn’t he pick up his half-sovereign and hook it?”