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Wednesday by the late "Captain" Jim O'Dale.

Jacob and Barbara waited some time, but at last a rustle in the crowd proclaimed the coming of the famous actor. Then Jacob let go of Barbara's hand to shoulder his way forward for the promised speech.

"Mr. Garrick, sir——"

"Sir to you!"

The little player stopped and, smiling genially, looked Jacob up and down from hat to toes.

"Sir, I have come to thank you on behalf of a young lady who is with me for the fine evening's entertainment you have given us. I protest, sir, you are the very first actor of your time, sir, and——"

He paused, somehow disconcerted.

Garrick was still smiling, but his smile had a flicker of grim curiosity in it; he still looked the innkeeper up and down and seemed particularly interested in his feet.

"May I know your name, sir?"

"With pleasure, Mr. Garrick! I am Jacob Larkyn, at your service, sir, keeper of the Blue Boar in Kensington. Ever at your service, Mr. Garrick, sir."

"Ah! Ever at my service? That is good, Mr. Jacob Larkyn—very good indeed!" and he laughed a little harshly. The crowd edged in round them.

"So Mr. Larkyn is ever at this poor player's service, is he?" Garrick went on. "Then perchance hewill tell the poor player where he got those fine gold buckles he is now wearing in his shoes—for, egad, I seem to know them passing well, myself!"

A sudden suspicion dawned on Jacob.

"G-gold b-buckles, sir?" he stammered.

"Yes, fellow!" Garrick changed his bantering manner and snapped at him. "My gold buckles that were stolen off the very shoes I was wearing by a rascal called Seven String Ned, less than a month ago!"

"I—I—I got them honest, sir, I'll swear it—they—they were given to me!"

Garrick smiled unkindly. A growl went up from the crowd.

"And by whom, dear Mr. Larkyn—by whom, pray?"

A girl's voice rang out:

"I will tell you, Mr. Garrick!" With flashing eyes and flaming cheeks Barbara Challis faced Jacob. "Seven String Ned was himself robbed by Jim O'Dale whom they hanged this morning. It was Jim O'Dale gave him those buckles as he gave him many more of your things—search the cupboard in his private closet! He was ever the receiver for O'Dale's stolen goods!"

"Barbara! Delilah!" shrieked Jacob, now fully aware of the trap. "She lies—gentlemen all, she lies—she was that damned highwayman's mistress—if there is anything in my closet she put it there herself! I'll swear——"

A hand struck him across the mouth.

"The lie in your own teeth, you dog!" cried a burly citizen. "Boys, I was in court when Jim O'Dale was tried—this man was his friend and paid for the lawyer to defend him—now, boys, will ye see our little Davy Garrick robbed? Will ye see the scoundrels as filched from him escape?"

"No! No!" shrieked Jacob, blood-guiltiness and terror almost depriving him of the power of coherent speech. "Spare me! Mercy! I can explain—explain all!"

"Explain to a jury!" snarled the foremost citizen. "Seize him, boys! To Newgate with the villain!"

A roar of vindictive enthusiasm answered him and a score pairs of hands gripped the innkeeper. As they dragged him away his voice choked in his throat and he saw