lige me?"

The tradesman hesitated. In the past there have been grave scandals
connected with lending money to boys. And Harrow tradesmen are at the
mercy of the Head Master. If a school-tailor be put out of bounds, he
can put up his shutters at once. Still----

"I'll let you have the money," said the man, eyeing Beaumont-Greene
keenly.

"Thanks."

The tailor observed a slight flush and a sudden intake of breath--signs
which stirred suspicion.

"Will you take it in notes, sir?"

Here Beaumont-Greene made his first blunder. He had an ill-defined idea
that paper was dangerous stuff.

"In gold, please."

He forgot that gold is not easily sent in a letter. The tailor
hesitated, but he had gone too far to back out.

"Very well, sir. I have not twenty-five pounds----"

"Thirty, if you please. I shall want thirty."

"I have not quite that amount here, but I can get it."

When the man came back with a small canvas bag in his hand,
Beaumont-Greene had pocketed the letter. He received the money, counted
it, thanked the tailor, and turned to go.

"If you please, sir----"

"Yes?"

"I should like to keep your father's letter, sir. As a form of receipt,
sir. When you settle I'll return it. If--if anything should happen
to--to you, sir, where would I be?"

Beaumont-Greene's temper showed itself.

"You all talk as if I was on my death-bed," he said.

The tailor stared. Others, then, had suggested to this large,
unwholesome youth the possibility of premature decease.

"Not at all, sir, but we do live in the valley of shadders. My wife's
step-father, as fine and hearty a specimen as you'd wish to see, sir,
was taken only last month; at breakfast, too, as he was chipping his
third egg."

Beaumont-Greene said loftily, "Blow your wife's step-father and his
third egg. Here's the letter."

He flung down the letter and marched out of the shop. The tradesman
looked at him, shaking his head. "He'll never come back," he muttered.
"I know his sort too well." Then, business happening to be slack, he
re-read the letter before putting it away. Then he whistled softly and
read it for the third time, frowning and biting his lips. The
"Beaumont-Greene" in the signature and on the envelope did not look to
be written by the same hand.

"There's something fishy here," muttered the tradesman. "I must show
this to Amelia."

It was his habit to consult his wife in emergencies. The chief cutter
and two assistants said that Amel