ke game of his brother's looks seeing
that he himself was notably handsome, with traits as regular as if they
had been carved, and a profile so exact that it was frequently exposed
in photographers' windows, to the envy of gentlemen gazers. While Thor
had once tried to mitigate his features by a beard that had been
unsuccessful and had now disappeared, Claude wouldn't disfigure himself
by a hair. He was as clean-shaven as a marble Apollo, and not less
neatly limbed.

"Gone." Claude raised his eyes just long enough to utter the word.

Thor came to an abrupt stop. "Club?"

"Suppose so." He added, without raising his head, "Wish to God the
drunken sot would stay there." He continued, while still apparently
reading the tape in his hand, "Father wishes it, too."

Thor was not altogether taken by surprise. Ever since his return from
Europe, a year earlier, he had wondered how his father's patience could
hold out. He took it that there was a reason for it, a reason he at once
expressed to Claude:

"Father can't wish it. He can't afford to."

Claude lifted his handsome, rather insolent face. "Why not?"

"For the simple reason that he's got his money."

"Much you know about it. Len Willoughby hasn't enough money left in
Toogood & Masterman's to take him on a trip to Europe."

Thor backed toward the receiving-teller's wicket, where he rested the
tips of his elbows on the counter. He was visibly perturbed. "What's
become of it, then?"

"Don't ask me. All I know is what I'm telling you."

"Did father say so himself?"

"Not in so many words. But I know it." He tossed the tape from him and
began to smooth his gloves. "Father means to ship him."

"Ship him? He can't do that."

"Can't? I should like to know why not."

"Because he can't. That's why. Because he has--"

"Yes? Cough it up. Speak as if you had something up your sleeve."

Thor reflected as to the wisdom of saying more. "Well, I have," he
admitted. "It's something I remember from the time we were kids. You
were too young to notice. But _I_ noticed--and I haven't forgotten.
Father can't ship Len Willoughby without being sure he has enough to
live on." He decided to speak out, if for no other reason than that of
securing Claude's co-operation. "Father persuaded Mr. Willoughby to put
Mrs. Willoughby's money into the business when he didn't want to."

"Ah, shucks!" Claude exclaimed, contemptuously.

"He did," Thor insisted. "It was back in 1892, in Paris, t