That evening Alf called at Bobby's lodgings and apologised frankly.
"I know I said what I shouldn't, sir," he admitted. "But it fairly tortured me to see you along of a chap like that Burt."
"He's all right," said Bobby coldly.
Alf smiled that sickly smile of his.
"Ah, you're innocent, Mr. Chislehurst," he said. "Only wish I knew as little as you do."
Alf in fact was moving on and up again in his career; walking warily in consequence, and determined to do nothing that should endanger his position with the powers that be. This was the motive that inspired his apology to Mr. Chislehurst and caused him likewise to make approaches to his old schoolmaster, Mr. Pigott.
The old Nonconformist met the advances of his erstwhile pupil with genial brutality.
"What's up now, Alf?" he asked. "Spreading the treacle to catch the flies. Mind ye don't catch an hornet instead then!"
The remark may have been made in innocence, but Alf looked sharply at the speaker and retired in some disorder. His new stir of secret busyness was in fact bringing him into contact with unusual company, as Mrs. Trupp discovered by accident. One evening she had occasion to telephone on behalf of her husband to the garage. A voice that seemed familiar replied.
"Who's that?" she asked.