"A resident, likely ?" "Well, not at present, or I shouldn't be going to the inn." "Down here on business, I reckon?
I was a bagman myself once." "You're wrong again.

I've been down to see my property, if you want to know." "Large estate, no doubt?
Anywhere near my friend Ingleton's plot, now ?" Mr Ratman stared at the stranger with something like consternation.
"Ingleton!" he exclaimed.

"What do you know of Ingleton ?" Here the omnibus pulled up.
"Wal, I reckon I should know something of my own family," drawled the stranger as he alighted.

"What say ?--shall we have a snack of something in the parlour! Come along." The landlord led the way into the coffee-room.

He knew Mr Ratman by this time.
"Sorry we can't give you and your friend the private room, sir, but there's only one other gentleman in the coffee-room, and he's going directly." As they entered, the other gentleman, who was drying his boots at the fire, turned round, and Mr Ratman had the rapture of finding himself face to face with Mr Armstrong..