ld in his thick red damp
hand, ornamented as to the fore-finger with a huge ring, a piece
of paper.

"Then I shall draw for a hundred-and-five?"

"If you do we won't sign," said Drysdale; "now, be quick, Ben"
(the fat man's name was Benjamin), "you infernal shark, we've
been wrangling long enough over it. Draw for 100L at three
months, or we're off."

"Then, Mr. Drysdale, you gents will take part in goods. I wish to
do all I can for gents as comes well introduced, but money is
very scarce just now."

"Not a stuffed bird, bottle of Eau-de-Cologne, ring or cigar,
will we have. So now, no more nonsense, put down 75L on the
table."

The money-lender, after another equally useless attempt to move
Drysdale, who was the only one of the party who spoke, produced a
roll of bills, and counted out 75L, thinking to himself that he
would make this young spark sing a different tune before very
long. He then filled up the piece of paper, muttering that the
interest was nothing considering the risk, and he hoped they
would help him to some thing better with some of their friends.
Drysdale reminded him, in terms not too carefully chosen, that he
was getting cent per cent. The document was signed,--Drysdale
took the notes, and they went out.

"Well, that's well over," said Drysdale, as they walked towards
High Street. "I'm proud of my tactics, I must say; one never does
so well for oneself as for anyone else. If I had been on my own
hook, that fellow would have let me in for 20L worth of stuffed
birds and bad jewelry. Let's see, what do you want, Blake?"

"Sixty will do," said Blake.

"You had better take 65L; there'll be some law costs to pay," and
Drysdale handed him the notes.

"Now, Brown, shall we divide the balance,--a fiver a piece?"

"No, thank you," said Tom, "I don't want it; as you two are to
hold me harmless, you must do what you like with the money." So
Drysdale pocketed the 10L, after which they walked in silence to
the gate of St. Ambrose. The most reckless youngster doesn't
begin this sort of thing without reflections which are apt to
keep him silent. At the gates Blake wrung both their hands. "I
don't say much, but I sha'n't forget it." He got out the words
with some difficulty, and went off to his rooms.

CHAPTER XI

MUSCULAR CHRISTIANITY

Within the next week or two several important events had happened
to one and another of our St. Ambrose friends. Tom had introduced
Blake to Hardy, after some