"No, nor two, you know well enough that I wouldn't make the slightest bother. But Gray, he's that close——"
"Close!" said George; "he worships it. He keeps every farthing."
"I couldn't be mean like that. It's a pity that he hasn't got a few more to tackle him harder than you do."
"So it is," said George.
"He ought to have me!" said Busby. "Why, if I knew—but, of course, it's no business of mine. It would be a spree to get at him. It'd be a picnic to let him see that I knew all about it. He'd have a fit."
The thought of Gray writhing under the knowledge that a second man possessed his secret pleased Busby immensely, and his merriment only subsided on his observing that George was not enjoying the joke.
"Don't you be afraid, old chap," he said. "I wouldn't ask you to tell anything that you didn't want to."
"I know you wouldn't," said George. "You're not that sort."
But the idea having entered into the head of Busby was not easy to get rid of. Perhaps, in spite of his unwillingness to draw secrets from his friend George, he had some idea of doing so when he invited that young gentleman to turn his steps towards the smoking concert, and be passed in as a friend. From what we have seen of George Early, it seems doubtful that he could be easily led into imparting knowledge that was of sterling value to himself, while he kept it to himself; but one can never tell what a man will do for friendship's sake when under the influence of alcoholic liquor.
George Early and Busby went to the concert, and encored the choruses with great gusto. At intervals they had refreshments, and in due course made their way to Charing Cross in a very friendly spirit.