The price was far below current rates for cutting metal, but Nickie was not penurious and grasping.  He threw off his tattered coat, and, draped in fragments of a shirt, in a pair of trousers, half of which fluttered in the breeze, and boots that looked like a collection of fragments, he set to work.

Certainly Nicholas Crips did not show any disposition to work himself to death.  After an hour his employer told him he wasn’t likely to earn enough to keep a rag-gatherer in toilet soap, but Nickie explained again that he was merely exercising his liver, and had no intention of making an independence as a breaker of road metal.

Nickie’s heap was right opposite the great, fanciful iron gates of the cemented residence.  He could see the well-kept garden and the showy house from where he worked, and he frequently ceased his half hearted rapping at the tough stone to watch children playing on the lawn.  He was particularly interested in a tall, `severe-looking, fair-haired woman, who appeared on the balcony for a moment.

Mr. Crips had been at work for about three hours, during which time he had perspired a good deal and gathered much dust, for Nickie was habitually easy going, and his task, although pursued with no diligence, had “taken it out of him” to some extent.  He was certainly a deplorable scarecrow.  A fine, polished carriage, with rubber tyres, drawn by a splendid pair of chestnuts, was driven down the side drove by a livened menial.  It drew up near the centre gates, and Nickie leaned on his hammer and waited.

The tall, dignified lady, accompanied by a short, important man in immaculate black, came along the path, and approached the open door of the vehicle.  Nickie advanced carelessly, and intercepted them.  He bowed grotesquely.

“Good day, Billy,” he said, familiarly.  He lifted his hat pointedly to the lady. “’Ow’s yerself Jinny?” he asked.

The lady and gentleman stared at him in utmost astonishment for a moment, then consternation seized them, and they made a dive for the vehicle.  Nickie followed to the door.

“So long, if yer mus’ be goin’, Willyum,” he said, pleasantly.  “So long, Jinny.  How’s the old man’s fish business?”

“Drive on!” gasped the gentleman.  He had the scared expression of one who had seen a spectre.

The liveried menial whipped up, and the carriage was swept away.  Nickie returned to his heap, and for fully two minutes Stub McGuire, his employer, gazed at him in speechless, open-mouthed amazement.

“Well, of all the blarsted cheeks!” gasped McGuire, when speech came to him.

“Don’t mention it,” said Nickie.

“Don’t mention it!” yelled Stub.  “No, iv course not, but what price his nibs in the noble belltopper mentionin’ it t’ th’ Johns, an’ gettin’ you seven days fer disgustin’ behaviour?”

Nickie smiled inscrutably, and continued his work.  When the carriage returned, he made an adroit movement, and courteously opened the door.