Scutts preferred to talk instead of the free board and lodging his
friend was getting. On the subject of such pay for such work he was
almost eloquent.

"I'll bide my time," said Mr. Flynn, darkly. "Treat me fair and I'll
treat you fair."

His imprisonment came to an end on the fourth day. There was a knock at
the door, and the sound of men's voices, followed by the hurried
appearance of Mrs. Scutts.

"It's Jim's lot," she said, in a hurried whisper. "I've just come up to
get the room ready."

Mr. Scutts took his friend by the hand, and after warmly urging him not
to forget the expert instructions he had received concerning his back,
slipped into the back room, and, a prey to forebodings, awaited the
result.

"Well, he looks better," said the doctor, regarding Mr. Flynn.

"Much better," said his companion.

Mrs. Scutts shook her head. "His pore back don't seem no better, sir,"
she said in a low voice. "Can't you do something for it?"

"Let me have a look at it," said the doctor. "Undo your shirt."

Mr. Flynn, with slow fingers, fumbled with the button at his neck and
looked hard at Mrs. Scutts.