quarrel. The docther put 'em up at fifteen paces, and the man shot
Willoughby through the calf of the leg. He was a martyr to punctuality.
Four o'clock-bye, bye!" The major nodded pleasantly and swaggered away,
flourishing his little cane jauntily in the air.

In spite of his admiration of punctuality, as exemplified in the person
of Willoughby of the Buffs, the major took good care to arrive at the
trysting-place somewhat behind the appointed time. It was clear to him
that some service or other was expected of him, and it was obviously his
game therefore to hang back and not appear to be too eager to enter into
young Girdlestone's views. When he presented himself at the entrance of
Nelson's Cafe the young merchant had been fuming and chafing in the
sitting-room for five and twenty minutes.

It was a dingy apartment, with a single large horse-hair chair and half
a dozen small wooden dittoes, placed with mathematical precision along
the walls. A square table in the centre and a shabby mirror over the
mantelpiece completed the furniture. With the instinct of an old
campaigner the major immediately dropped into the arm-chair, and,
leaning luxuriously back, took a cigar from his case and proceeded to
light it. Ezra Girdlestone seated himself near the table and twisted
his dark moustache, as was his habit when collecting himself.

"What will you drink?" he asked,

"Anything that's going."

"Fetch in a decanter of brandy and some seltzer water," said Ezra to the
waiter; "then shut the door and leave us entirely to ourselves."

When the liquor was placed upon the table he drank off his first glass
at a gulp, and then refilled it. The major placed his upon the
mantelpiece beside him without tasting it. Both were endeavouring to be
at their best and clearest in the coming interview, and each set about
it in his own manner.

"I'll tell you why I wanted to have a chat with you, major," Ezra said,
having first opened the door suddenly and glanced out as a precaution
against eavesdroppers. "I have to be cautious, because what I have to
say affects the interest of the firm. I wouldn't for the world have any
one know about it except yourself."

"What is it, me boy?" the major asked, with languid curiosity, puffing
at his weed and staring up at the smoke-blackened ceiling.

"You understand that in commercial speculations the least breath of
information beforehand may mean a loss of thousands on thousands."

The m