But Mr. Bloggs refused to hear any more. Can the reader show how this extraordinary triple relationship might have come about?
"Speaking of perplexities——" said Mr. Wilson, throwing down a magazine on the table in the commercial room of the Railway Hotel.
"Who was speaking of perplexities?" inquired Mr. Stubbs.
"Well, then, reading about them, if you want to be exact—it just occurred to me that perhaps you three men may be interested in a little matter connected with myself."
It was Christmas Eve, and the four commercial travellers were spending the holiday at Grassminster. Probably each suspected that the others had no homes, and perhaps each was conscious of the fact that he was in that predicament himself. In any case they seemed to be perfectly comfortable, and as they drew round the cheerful fire the conversation became general.
"What is the difficulty?" asked Mr. Packhurst.
"There's no difficulty in the matter, when you rightly understand it. It is like this. A man named Parker had a flying-machine that would carry two. He was a venturesome sort of chap—reckless, I should call him—and he had some bother in finding a man willing to risk his life in making an ascent with him. However, an uncle of mine thought he would chance it, and one fine morning he took his seat in the machine and she started off well. When they were up about a thousand feet, my nephew suddenly——"
"Here, stop, Wilson! What was your nephew doing there? You said your uncle," interrupted Mr. Stubbs.