O make a noise," said Ashton-Kirk. And with that he stalked down the hall, his heels clattering on the bare boards. "Hello," he cried loudly. "Sams is wanted! Hello, Sams!" A door opened, and a face covered with thick soap suds and surmounted by a tangle of sandy hair looked out. "Hello," growled this person, huskily. "Who wants him?" "Very glad to see you, Mr. Sams," said Ashton-Kirk. "We have a small matter of business with you that will require a few moments of your time. May we come in?" "Sure," said Sams. They entered the room, which contained a bed, a trunk, a wash-stand, and a chair. "One of you can take the chair; the other can sit on the trunk," said the

hack driver, nodding toward these articles. Then he proceeded to strop a razor at one of the windows. "Excuse me if I go on with this reaping. I must go out and feed the horse, and then get breakfast." "You breakfast rather late," commented Ashton-Kirk. "I'm lucky to get it at any time, in this business," grumbled Sams. "Out all night, sleep all day, and get blamed little for it, at that." He posed before a small mirror stuck up beside the window and gave the blade an experimental sweep across his face. Then he tur