“Look sharp now,” cried the station-master eagerly to some one outside the office. “Athenbury? Here you are—four shillings; run!”
The guard knew that it was a late passenger, and, being a good-hearted fellow, held the door of a carriage open, even although the train was on the move.
A man in a smock-frock and slouch-hat rushed across the platform at this moment, and made for the door which the guard held open.
“Jump!” said the guard.
The gentlemanly burglar and the policeman lent their aid to pull the man into the train; the door banged, and they were away.
“You’ve all but missed it,” said the burglar.
The man in the smock-frock pulled his slouch-hat well over his eyes, and admitted that it was a “close shave.” Then he laid his head on the side of the carriage and breathed hard.
“Take a drop o’ gin,” said the burglar in a patronising way, “it’ll bring you to in a minute.”
Kenneth knew by his manner that he did not guess who it was that sat beside him, so he resolved to accept the offer.
“Thank’ee, I loik gin. It waarms the cockles o’ yer ’art, it do,” said Kenneth.