ood now
with her back to the wall, biting her lip. After all, when a game is
won, pawns are relatively of little importance--except to themselves.

"Signed? Registered?" said Van Diest, edging forward.

Nugent Cassis held the crackling document before his eyes--a Concession
to Millions--and he answered between his teeth:

"Signed and registered."

"So," said Van Diest, with unexpected control, "we lose--Finish." But
his hands trembled as he turned away.

Ezra P. Hipps did not desert his post at the telephone until he heard
those words. Then he snapped viciously,

"Say, cancel those orders, Phillips--Wash out the lot."

It was too ridiculous at such a moment to contemplate the price of
victory, but that is precisely what Auriole did.

"And you've never asked--never given a thought to the real man--the man
who made it possible--who stayed out there on the road while----" She
bit back her tears and turned savagely on Hipps and Van Diest. "Oh,
God," she cried, "if anything has happened to him."

But nothing had--if you discount a little discomfort bravely borne. He
walked into the room even as she spoke. Dirty he was, dishevelled and
hollow-eyed, a very travesty of his former self. But there was a
spring in his bearing that fires of adversity had failed to rob of its
temper. He entered with a swing, a certain jauntiness--a dash of
_nonchaloir_--pushing his way through the group of astonished
financiers in the doorway and marching up to Van Diest and the American
with a very fine air of "you be damned" about the carriage of his head.

"Get out," he said, uncompromisingly. "And tomorrow morning I'm coming
down to Charing Cross to see you off by the Continental."

They both addressed him simultaneously and in very different tones to
the ones he had grown accustomed to during the past three weeks. The
word "cheque" figured largely in their proposals. Richard Frencham
Altar cut them short with:

"Cheque from you? No, thanks. I'll take the smallest coin in each of
your countries to wear on my watch chain. It'll remind me of my
dealings with two millionaires. That train goes at ten tomorrow
morning."

Ezra P. Hipps happened to see the light in Auriole's eyes as he and Van
Diest moved toward the door. It was quite unmistakable and from his
point of view, conclusive. He said nothing, however, and they passed
out in silence.

It is probable that Hilbert Torrington also read a meaning in the
girl's