“And if you are!” snapped Mr Sandbach, “you thought you’d do me down by a trick.  Offering the man ten shillings to go wasn’t at all a fair way of winning the bet, and you knew it, my boy.  However, I’ve paid up; so that’s all right.”

“All I say is,” Mr Gale obstinately repeated, “if this is your notion of a practical joke—­”

“Didn’t I tell you—­” Mr Sandbach became icily furious.

The friendship hitherto existing between these two excellent individuals might have been ruined and annihilated for a comparative trifle, had not a surprising and indeed almost miraculous thing happened, by some kind of freak of destiny, in the nick of time.  Mr Sandbach was sticking close to Mr Gale, and Mr Gale was following in the leisurely footsteps of the very shabby man, possibly debating within himself whether he should boldly demand the return of his half-sovereign, when lo! a golden coin seemed to slip from the boot of the very shabby man.  It took the stone-flags of the platform with scarcely a sound, and Mr Sandbach and Mr Gale made a simultaneous, superb and undignified rush for it.  Mr Sandbach got it.  The very shabby man passed on, passed eternally out of the lives of the other two.  It may be said that he was of too oblivious and dreamy a nature for this world.  But one must not forget that he had made a solid gain of ten shillings.

“The soles of the fellow’s boots must have been all cracks, and it must have got lodged in one of them,” cheerfully explained Mr Sandbach as he gazed with pleasure at the coin.  “I hope you believe me now.  You thought it was a plant.  I hope you believe me now.”

Mr Gale made no response to this remark.  What Mr Gale said was: 

“Don’t you think that in fairness that half-sovereign belongs to me?”

“Why?” asked Mr Sandbach, bluntly.

“Well,” Mr Gale began, searching about for a reason.

“You didn’t find it,” Mr Sandbach proceeded firmly.  “You didn’t see it first.  You didn’t pick it up.  Where do you come in?”

“I’m seven and sixpence out,” said Mr Gale.

“And if I give you the coin, which I certainly shall not do, I should be half-a-crown out.”

Friendship was again jeopardized, when a second interference of fate occurred, in the shape of a young and pretty woman who was coming from the opposite direction and who astonished both men considerably by stepping in front of them and barring their progress.

“Excuse me,” said she, in a charming voice, but with a severe air.  “But may I ask if you have just picked up that coin?”

Mr Sandbach, after looking vaguely, as if for inspiration, at Mr Gale, was obliged to admit that he had.

“Well,” said the young lady, “if it’s dated 1898, and if there’s an ‘A’ scratched on it, it’s mine.  I’ve lost it off my watch-chain.”  Mr Sandbach examined the coin, and then handed it to her, raising his hat.  Mr Gale also raised his hat.  The young lady’s grateful smile was enchanting.  Both men were bachelors and invariably ready to be interested.