ood. Seriously, Jem, will you let me have the fifteen hundred?"

"No," said the other, simply.

Carr went white. "It's to save me from ruin," he said, thickly.

"I've helped you till I'm tired," said Benson, turning and regarding him,
"and it is all to no good. If you've got into a mess, get out of it.
You should not be so fond of giving autographs away."

"It's foolish, I admit," said Carr, deliberately. "I won't do so any
more. By the way, I've got some to sell. You needn't sneer. They're
not my own."

"Whose are they?" inquired the other.

"Yours."

Benson got up from his chair and crossed over to him. "What is this?"
he asked, quietly. "Blackmail?"

"Call it what you like," said Carr. "I've got some letters for sale,
price fifteen hundred. And I know a man who would buy them at that price
for the mere chance of getting Olive from you. I'll give you first
offer."

"If you have got any letters bearing my signature, you will be good
enough to give them to me," said Benson, very slowly.

"They're mine," said Carr, lightly; "given to me by the lady you wrote
them to. I must say that they are not all in the best possible taste."

His cousin reached forward suddenly, and catching him by the collar of
his coat pinned him down on the table.

"Give me those letters," he breathed, sticking his face close to Carr's.

"They're not here," said Carr, struggling. "I'm not a fool. Let me go,
or I'll raise the price."

The other man raised him from the table in his powerful hands, apparently
with the intention of dashing his head against it. Then suddenly his
hold relaxed as an astonished-looking maid-servant entered the room with
letters. Carr sat up hastily.

"That's how it was done," said Benson, for the girl's benefit as he took
the letters.

"I don't wonder at the other man making him pay for it, then," said Carr,
blandly.

"You will give me those letters?" said Benson, suggestively, as the girl
left the room.

"At the price I mentioned, yes," said Carr; "but so sure as I am a living
man, if you lay your clumsy hands on me again, I'll double it. Now, I'll
leave you for a time while you think it over."

He took a cigar from the box and lighting it carefully quitted the room.
His cousin waited until the door had closed behind him, and then turning
to the window sat there in a fit of fury as silent as it was terrible.

The air was fresh and sweet from the park, heavy with the scent of
n