efore long. I understand that you're already looked upon
as a coming man."

It was a generous speech, but it was justified, for Challoner had shown
administrative as well as military skill in the affairs his cousin
mentioned. He, however, still looked troubled, and his colour was
higher than usual.

"Dick," he said, "I wish you would let me give you a lift in the only
way I can. You know you had never any idea of economy, and I'm afraid
you must find it hard to get along."

"No," said Blake curtly; "it's impossible. Your father made me a
similar offer and I couldn't consent. I suppose I have the Blakes'
carelessness about money, but what I get from my mother's little
property keeps me on my feet." He laughed as he went on: "It's lucky
that your people, knowing the family failing, arranged matters so that
the principal could not be touched. Besides, I've a plan for adding to
my means."

Bertram dropped the subject. Dick was often rather casual and
inconsequent, but there was a stubborn vein in him. When he took the
trouble to think a matter out he was apt to prove immovable.

"Anyway, you will let me know how you get on."

"I think not. What good would it do? The Challoners gave me a fair
start and I disappointed them. While I'm grateful, it's better that
they should have nothing more to do with me. Think of your career,
keep your wife proud of you--she has good reason for being so, and let
me go my way and drop out of sight again. I'm a common adventurer and
have been mixed up in matters that fastidious people would shrink from,
which may happen again. Still, I manage to get a good deal of pleasure
out of the life, which suits me in many ways." He rose, holding out
his hand. "Good-bye, Bertram. We may run across each other somewhere
again."

"I'll always be glad to do so," Challoner said with feeling. "Be sure
I won't forget you, Dick."

Blake turned away, but when he left the hotel his face was sternly set.
It had cost him something to check his cousin's friendly advances and
break the last connexion between himself and the life he once had led,
but he knew it must be broken, and felt no pang of envious bitterness.
For many years Bertram had been a good and generous friend, and Blake
sincerely wished him well.

The Challoners left by the Pacific Express next morning, and during the
evening Captain Sedgwick stood talking to Millicent, who had stopped a
few moments in passing, near a pillar