known." 

 "You see," said the little woman, "Albert is so studious. He'll sit for hours and hours in the library, reading all sorts of books, and he can tell the most wonderful stories. I don't suppose you'd believe them if you heard." 

 "I don't suppose I should," said George. 

 "Nobody does," said Mrs. Busby, with pride. "They hear his stories, and they smile, but they don't know where they came from." 

 "It's a good job they don't," thought George. 

 Mrs. Busby gave her visitor elaborate directions for finding the library, and hoped he would come back to supper. George said he would be delighted, if it was only to hear some of her husband's stories. 

 Halfway across the square he turned round to take another look at the house. "Nice little woman that," he said to himself. "I think I'll go back to supper." He lit a cigarette, and started off to find his old friend Busby. 

 The cashier was in the midst of a game of billiards and winning easily, consequently he was in high spirits. He welcomed George, and wondered whatever had brought him to that district. 

 "House-hunting," said George. "I've just been round to the Free Library, looking up particulars." 

 At the mention of the Free Library, Busby became more serious, and the next shot he made was a bad one. 

 "You're getting on well," said George, looking at the score. 

 "So I ought," said Busby; "it isn't often I win. These beggars are too good for me." 

 "You'll win this time," said George; "that'll be good news for the missis." 

 Busby lighted his pipe to avoid a reply, and then made another bad shot. 

 "You've brought me bad luck," he growled, turning to George. 

 "It isn't that," said George, "you played in the wrong way. I was looking just now at the book on billiards in the Free Library, and——" 

 "Damn the Free Library," said Busby, savagely, making a miss. 

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