"Nothing," said Bobby. "No, I won't have any more to drink. I've work to do——"
Then he stopped and stared before him with eyes wide.
"What is it now?" asked Foulkes.
"Good Lord!" said Bobby. "Look at that chap at the bar!"
"Which one?"
"The one with the straw hat on the back of his head. It can't be—but it is—it's the Relative."
"The one you told me of that fired you out and cut you off with a shilling?"
"Yes. Uncle Simon. No, it's not, it can't be. It is, though, in a straw hat."
"And squiffy," said Foulkes.
Bobby got up and, leaving the other, strolled to the bar casually. The man at the bar was toying with a glass of soda-water supplied to him on sufferance. Bobby got close to him. Yes, that was the right hand with the white scar—got when a young man "hunting"—and the seal ring.