y carefully.

"It says he's spent a million, but I know that's a lie," she said.
"I've been watching that jute deal for a long time, and it's nearer
half the sum." She frowned. "I wonder----" she said.

"Wonder what?" asked the younger girl impatiently. "What's the good of
wondering? The only thing we can do is to clear out."

Again Clara went from the room and came back with an armful of
documents. These she laid on the table, and the girl, looking down,
saw that they were for the main part blank contracts. Clara turned
them over and over until at last she came to one headed "Ministry of
Supplies."

"This'd be the form," she said. "It is the same that Stevenhowe had."

She was mentioning the name of a middle-aged man, who, quite
unwittingly and most unwillingly, had contributed to her very handsome
bank balance. She scanned the clauses through, and then flung down the
contract in disgust.

"There's nothing mentioned about a deposit," she said, "and, anyway, I
doubt very much whether I could get it back, even on his signature."

A quarter of an hour later Miss Clara Stegg took up the contract again
and read the closely-printed clauses very carefully. When she had
finished she said:

"I just hate the idea of that fellow making money."

"You've said that before," said her sister tartly.

At six o'clock that evening Bones went home. At nine o'clock he was
sitting in his sitting-room in Clarges Street--a wonderful place,
though small, of Eastern hangings and subdued lights--when Hamilton
burst in upon him; and Bones hastily concealed the poem he was writing
and thrust it under his blotting-pad. It was a good poem and going
well.

It began:

How very sweet
Is Marguerite!

And Bones was, not unreasonably, annoyed at this interruption to his
muse.

As to Hamilton, he was looking ill.

"Bones," said Hamilton quietly, "I've had a telegram from my pal in
Dundee. Shall I read it?"

"Dear old thing," said Bones, with an irritated "tut-tut," "really,
dear old creature, at this time of night--your friends in
Dundee--really, my dear old boy----"

"Shall I read it?" said Hamilton, with sinister calm.

"By all means, by all means," said Bones, waving an airy hand and
sitting back with resignation written on every line of his countenance.

"Here it is," said Hamilton. "It begins 'Urgent.'"

"That means he's in a devil of a hurry, old thing," said Bones, nodding.

"And it goes on to say," said