opened the door. There was a pair of trousers there. He put his hand into the pocket, and drew forth the identical letter the old gentleman had described!
"'Queer sort of thing, this,' said Tom Smart; looking first at the chair and then at the press, and then at the letter, and then at the chair again. 'Very queer,' said Tom. But, as there was nothing in either, to lessen the queerness, he thought he might as well dress himself, and settle the tall man's business at once—just to put him out of his misery.
"Tom surveyed the rooms he passed through, on his way down stairs, with the scrutinising eye of a landlord; thinking it not impossible, that before long, they and their contents would be his property. The tall man was standing in the snug little bar, with his hands behind him, quite at home. He grinned vacantly at Tom. A casual observer might have supposed he did it, only to show his white teeth; but Tom Smart thought that a consciousness of triumph was passing through the place where the tall man's mind would have been, if he had had any. Tom laughed in his face; and summoned the landlady.
"'Good morning, ma'am, said Tom Smart, closing the door of the little parlour as the widow entered.
"'Good morning, sir,' said the widow. 'What will you take for breakfast, sir?'
"Tom was thinking how he should open the case, so he made no answer.
"'There's a very nice ham,' said the widow, and a beautiful cold larded fowl. Shall I send 'em in, sir?"
"These words roused Tom from his reflections. His admiration of the widow increased as she spoke. Thoughtful creature! Comfortable provider!
"'Who is that gentleman in the bar, ma'am?' inquired Tom.
"'His name is Jinkins, sir,' said the widow, slightly blushing.
"'He's a tall man,' said Tom.
"'He is a very fine man, sir,' replied the widow, and a very nice gentleman.'
