“Mr. Widdup and me 'ired 'em, sir,” said Halfred, “from a particular friend o' ours what can be trusted. Jumps like fleas, they do, he says, and 'as been known to run for sixty-five miles without stoppin' more'n once or twice for a drink. 'Ard in the mouth and 'igh in the temper, says he, but the very thing for a gentleman in good 'ealth what doesn't 'unt regular and likes 'is money's worth when he does.”
“You have exactly described me,” I replied.
But if I had the advantage over my two friends in the suite I was taking with me, Teddy Lumme certainly led the way in conversation. He was vastly impressed with the importance of our party (a sentiment he succeeded in communicating to the guard and the other officials); also with the respectability of the function we were going to attend, and with the inferiority of other travellers on that railway. This air of triumphal progress or coronation procession was still further increased by the indefatigable attentions of Halfred, who at every station ran to our carriage door, touched his hat, and made inquiries concerning our comfort and safety; so that more than once a loyal cheer was raised as the train steamed out again, and Dick even declared that at an important junction he perceived the Lord Alayor's daughter approaching with a basket of flowers. Unfortunately, however, she did not reach our carriage in time.
The glories of this pageant he was partaking in filled Teddy's mind with reminiscences of other scenes where he had played an equally distinguished part.
“I remember one day with the Quorn last year,” he remarked. “Devil of a run we had; seventy-five minutes without a check. When we'd killed, I said to a man, 'Got anything to drink?' It was Pluckham. You know Lord Pluckham, Dick?”
“His bankruptcy case went through our chambers,” said Dick, dryly.
“Dashed hard lines that was,” said Teddy. “He's a good chap, is Pluckham; kept the best whiskey in England. By Jove! I never had a drink like that. A man needs one after riding with the Quorn.”