Cleek laughed, and catching him by the shoulder whirled him round, looked at him, and then clapped him on the back.

“Look here, don’t you get to worrying and to developing nerves, young man,” he said, “or I shall have to ship you off somewhere for a long rest; and I’m just beginning to feel as if I couldn’t do without you.  What you want is a change; and what I want is the river, so, if there is no message from The Yard—­”

“There isn’t, sir.”

“Good.  Then ’phone through to Mr. Narkom and tell him that you and I are going for a few days up the river as far as Henley, and that we are going to break it on Wednesday to go to the Derby.”

“Gov’nor!  Gawd’s truth, sir, you aren’t never a-goin’ to give me two sich treats as that?  From now till Thursday with jist you—­jist you, sir?  I’ll go balmy on the crumpet—­I’ll get to stickin’ straws in my bloomin’ ’air!”

“You ‘get to’ the telephone and send that message to The Yard, if you know when you’re well off,” said Cleek, laughing.  “And, after that, out with the kit bag and in with such things as we shall need; and—­Hullo! what’s this thing?”

“A necktie and a rose bush wot I took the liberty of buyin’ for you, sir, bein’ as you give me ten shillin’s for myself,” said Dollops sheepishly.  “I been a-keepin’ of my eye on that rose bush and that necktie for a week past, sir.  I ’ope you’ll take ’em, Gov’nor, and not think me presumin’, sir.”

Cleek faced round and looked at him—­a long look—­without saying anything, then he screwed round on his heel and walked to the window.

“It is very nice and very thoughtful of you, Dollops,” he said presently, his voice a little thick, his tones a little uneven.  “But don’t be silly and waste your money, my lad.  Lay it by.  You may need it one day.  Now toddle on and get things ready for our outing.”  But afterwards—­when the boy had gone and he was alone in the room—­he walked back to the potted rose bush and touched its buds lovingly, and stood leaning over it and saying nothing for a long time.  And though the necktie that hung on its branches was a harlequin thing of red and green and violent purple, when he came to dress for that promised outing he put it on and adjusted it as tenderly, wore it as proudly as ever knight of old wore the colours of his lady.

“You look a fair treat in it, sir,” said Dollops, delightedly and admiringly, when he came in later and saw that he had it on.  And if anything had been wanting to make him quite, quite happy, it was wanting no more.  Or, if it had been, the night that came down and found them housed in a little old-world inn, with a shining river at its door and the hush and the odorous darkness of the country lanes about it, must of itself have supplied the omission; for when all the house was still and all the lights were out, he crept from his bed and curled up like a dog on the mat before Cleek’s door, and would not have changed places with an emperor.