."

"Put a good stiff nightcap on, my boy, before going to bed."

"Yes; I sometimes wish I was less temperate. But I couldn't stand it.
I'm told your doctor forbids you alcohol."

"He does. That's why I drink it."

Joe Pillin, brooding over the fire, said: "This meeting--d'you think
they mean to have it? D'you think this man really knows? If my name gets
into the newspapers--" but encountering his old friend's deep little
eyes, he stopped. "So you advise me to get off to-morrow, then?"

Old Heythorp nodded.

"Your lunch is served, sir."

Joe Pillin started violently, and rose.

"Well, good-bye, Sylvanus-good-bye! I don't suppose I shall be back till
the summer, if I ever come back!" He sank his voice: "I shall rely on
you. You won't let them, will you?"

Old Heythorp lifted his hand, and Joe Pillin put into that swollen
shaking paw his pale and spindly fingers. "I wish I had your pluck," he
said sadly. "Good-bye, Sylvanus," and turning, he passed out.

Old Heythorp thought: 'Poor shaky chap. All to pieces at the first
shot!' And, going to his lunch, ate more heavily than usual.

2

Mr. Ventnor, on reaching his office and opening his letters, found, as
he had anticipated, one from "that old rascal." Its contents excited in
him the need to know his own mind. Fortunately this was not complicated
by a sense of dignity--he only had to consider the position with an eye
on not being made to look a fool. The point was simply whether he set
more store by his money than by his desire for--er--Justice. If not, he
had merely to convene the special meeting, and lay before it the plain
fact that Mr. Joseph Pillin, selling his ships for sixty thousand
pounds, had just made a settlement of six thousand pounds on a lady
whom he did not know, a daughter, ward, or what-not--of the purchasing
company's chairman, who had said, moreover, at the general meeting,
that he stood or fell by the transaction; he had merely to do this,
and demand that an explanation be required from the old man of such a
startling coincidence. Convinced that no explanation would hold water,
he felt sure that his action would be at once followed by the collapse,
if nothing more, of that old image, and the infliction of a nasty slur
on old Pillin and his hopeful son. On the other hand, three hundred
pounds was money; and, if old Heythorp were to say to him: "What do
you want to make this fuss for--here's what I owe you!" could a man of
business an