must be done through Lady Sybil. You can make yourself
known to her and invite yourself to the house, where you can meet Crotin
himself."

He made other suggestions, for he had worked out the whole scheme in
detail for the other to carry into effect. Pinto's objections slowly
dissipated. He was a vain man and had all the vices of his vanity. A
desire to be thought well of, to be regarded as a rich man when he was
in fact on the verge of ruin, had brought him into crooked practices and
eventually into the circle of the colonel's acquaintances.

To appear amongst the fair as a giver of largesse on a magnificent scale
suited him down to the ground. It was a part for which he was eminently
fitted, as the colonel, a shrewd judge of humanity, knew quite well.

"I'll take it on," said Pinto, "but do you think he'll squeal?"

Boundary shook his head.

"I never knew a man who was caught on the rebound to squeal," he said.
"No, no, you needn't worry about that. All you have to do is to use your
discretion, choose the right moment, preparing him by a few hints for
what is coming, and you'll find he'll sit down, like the hard-headed
business man he is, and talk money."

Pinto pulled a little face.

"I know what you're thinking," said the colonel. "You hate the idea of
the generous donor being unmasked and appearing to anybody as a
blackmailer. Well, you needn't worry about that. Lady Sybil will not
know, nor will anybody else that counts. And, believe me, Crotin doesn't
count. Anyway, you can pretend that you're a perfectly innocent agent in
the matter, that you know me slightly and that I've dropped hints which
made you curious and which you are anxious to verify."

Pinto went off to make preparations for the journey. He had one of the
top flats in the Albemarle building, a suite of rooms which, if they
were not as expensively furnished as the colonel's, were more artistic.
He had recently acquired the services of a new "daily valet"--a step he
could take without fear that his secrets would be betrayed, since he had
no secrets in his own rooms, kept no documents of any kind, and received
no visitors.

The man opened the door to his ring.

"No, sir, nobody has been," said the servant in answer to his query, and
Pinto was relieved.

For the past two days he had been living in a condition bordering on
panic. It seemed unlikely that the colonel's confidence would be
justified and that the police would take no action. And