before turning excitedly to his son.

"Well?" he whispered in a husky voice.

"Got back," said Sam laconically.

"Yes; and you have not succeeded?" cried James Brandon.

Sam was silent.

"I say, you have not succeeded?"

"I heard what you said, father," replied Sam surlily.

"I knew it would be so," cried his father. "It's all because you would
be so rash, and ready to believe that you know everything. Now if you
had gone down as I advised, on a visit, everything would have been as
easy as a glove. You could have stayed there two or three days with
your cousin now your uncle is in London."

"Oh, then you knew Uncle Richard was in London?"

"Of course I did, or I shouldn't have let you go, sir. And then you
could have come back with what we wanted decently, and not come crawling
into the house as if you had been found out committing a theft, and the
detectives were after you."

Sam gave a sudden jump and glanced at the door, but laughed it off
directly with a sneer.

"Don't be absurd, father," he said. "Of course I only went on a very
honest mission--for you."

It was James Brandon's turn to wince now, and as he saw his son's
sneering laugh he turned upon him angrily.

"It's my own fault," he cried, "for trusting such an idiot. I might
have known what would be the consequences; but I thought you were
growing up into a man whom I could trust with important business."

"Legal business," said Sam sneeringly.

"Yes, sir, legal business," cried James Brandon. "You're worse than
your cousin."

"Ever so much," retorted Sam. "Well, dad, have you done?"

"Yes, sir, I have done--done with you too. You might have saved me
thousands, instead of--"

"How do you know I haven't?" said Sam sourly.

His father's mouth opened, and a curious change came over his
countenance.

"Why, Sam, my boy!" he panted. "You don't mean to say--"

"That the idiot has been of some use to you? Yes, I do. There, when
you've done rowing me let's get the business over, for I'm sick of it.
I want to go to bed."

"Then--then--you've--you've--" stammered James Brandon.

"Succeeded?--of course I have," said Sam coolly, as he lay back in a
chair, heavy-eyed, nervous, and utterly exhausted by his night's work.
"If I wasn't so tired I should have something more to say."

"My dear boy!" cried James Brandon effusively; and his son uttered a
low, unpleasant laugh. "Sam, you have the--the papers?"

"Yes."

"Quick then--gi