So 
THE STRAND MAGAZINE. 
said Thompson, irrelevantly. “ Look at old 
Holloway.” 
Holloway lived in a big house not very far 
from Bampton, though it was nearer Thorn- 
well. He was a retired tradesman who began 
by selling jam in the East-end. When he 
got on he built a factory, which was still in the 
East-end, and by a stroke of genius he called 
it The Farm. It was more like a gas-works 
than a farm, but nevertheless his jams, 
“ Fresh from the Farm,” did extremely well, 
and when he turned the thing into a company, 
and to amuse himself became a company 
promoter, he was worth the best part of a 
million. His firm’s carts, with “ Fresh from 
the Farm ” in gold letters, were familiar 
objects in London. 
“Oh, Holloway,” said Mandeville — “ well, 
T dare say he’s an old scoundrel, but he’s 
not a bad sort in his way. Margery really 
likes him, though her real pal in the house 
is Mrs. Holloway, who’s a dear. I wonder 
what old Holloway lives for ? ” 
As a matter of fact, Holloway lived for his 
only child, a boy of eight. 
“ What’s he live for ? Oh, he lives for the 
kid,” said Thompson. “ Thinks of nothing 
else. Savage makes a lot of money out of 
Holloway’s boy. It’s a pity lie isn’t your 
patient ; you’d be over there in a car every 
other day" If his finger aches they telephone 
for Savage. Indeed, they sent for him one 
day when the youngster refused to eat jam.” 
“ Was it 4 Fresh from the Farm ’ ? ” asked 
Mandeville, laughing for the first time. 
“ Perhaps he’s had too much of it.” 
