PRIMA FACIE EVIDENCE OF A SHIRT.
A ring on his little finger would probably have brought five cents at a second-hand dealers, but it was chosen with such taste that it might well pass for “a ring, sir, that my father secured among the loot taken at the fall of Delhi.” A piece of black ribbon was twisted in one of the button-holes of his vest, but an unfortunate accident with his fork flipped out the door-key that was attached to the other end of it.
“That’s rather a novel thing, sir,” he said to me.
“Yes,” I said, somewhat vaguely, thinking that he alluded to the deception involved.
“I thought that was a clever thing when the idea first struck me. Frequently in changing my dress of an evening I forgot to transfer my latch-key from one pocket to the other, and the consequence was that I was put to the annoyance of waking up my landlady at an unseemly hour. The last occasion I had to do this I took out my repeater to see what the hour was and the thought struck me that if I had my key instead of my watch there would be no trouble. That was enough. I told my landlady my idea and she thought it was capital, and offered to keep my watch safe for me. I have worn the key thus ever since. I am not so particular what time I reach my lodgings, as to be sure of getting in there when I do.”
My communicative vis-a-vis was feeding very heartily during this interesting conversation. He went on to speak of the Egyptian war and showed with his knife the exact position of General Gordon, and explained lucidly and to his own entire satisfaction how the venturesome Englishman could be rescued very easily, with a comparatively trifling expenditure of