have many more.

"Him and his radio-electricity! What was it he was going to do--renew
the cells of the body?"

"Well, why shouldn't cells be renewed?" protested the invalid weakly.

"There will be," said his son facetiously. "He'll find himself in one
again or I'm mistaken."

Mr. Walkingshaw lay silent for a few minutes. Then suddenly he groaned.

"Another of them coming on!" he muttered, and twisted his face away.

It was a few minutes more before he spoke again.

"I trust they'll catch the rascal! Andrew, my boy, can you not do
anything to assist the police?"

It was impressive to see how adequately the junior partner handled each
fresh development of the situation. At these last words he looked
exceedingly grave.

"Had your thoughts not better be turning to other things?" he suggested.

The invalid's head started forward from the pillow.

"Will you have the kindness to mind your own--" he began; and then, in
judgment, another spasm assailed him.

Andrew closed his eyes, drew down the corners of his mouth, and his lips
moved silently but evidently piously. It was impossible to remain
callous to such an elevating influence.

"You are right, Andrew; you are right," said his father. "And now, just
supposing I was taken, you'll see that affair of Guthrie and Co. through
the way we decided on?"

Andrew opened his eyes immediately and exhibited a fresh instance of his
adaptability to each changing circumstance.

"I've just been thinking of a better method still," he answered
promptly. "Why should the creditors get any more than they're legally
entitled to? You mind yon five thousand pounds invested in the Grand
Trunk Railway?"

"Perfectly, perfectly."

"Well, when one goes into the thing, they've really no more than a moral
right to that; and if one once begins on moral rights, there's no end to
them."

"That sounds a bit worldly-wise, Andrew; but as you like--as you like."

His junior partner regarded him severely.

"I may remind you that I'm only following your own precepts."

"One says things in health that one repents of on a bed of sickness.
Manage Guthrie and Co. as you like, but don't quote me if you mean to
neglect moral obligations. I had the decency never to quote my own
father, and it's the least you can do for yours, Andrew."

Andrew still looked displeased. It seemed to his fastidious ears that
there was an unpleasant smack of something remotely resembling cynicism
in this speech. I