George opened the letter with trembling and reverent fingers.

　　"DEAR MR. BEVAN,"Thank you ever so much for your note, which Albert gaveto me. How very, very kind. . .""Hey, mister!"George looked up testily. The boy Albert had reappeared.

　　"What's the matter? Can't you find the cake?""I've found the kike," rejoined Albert, adducing proof of thestatement in the shape of a massive slice, from which he took asubstantial bite to assist thought. "But I can't find the gingerile."George waved him away. This interruption at such a moment wasannoying.

　　"Look for it, child, look for it! Sniff after it! Bay on its trail!

　　It's somewhere about.""Wri'!" mumbled Albert through the cake. He flicked a crumb off hischeek with a tongue which would have excited the friendly interestof an ant-eater. "I like ginger-ile.""Well, go and bathe in it.""Wri'!"George returned to his letter.

　　"DEAR MR. BEVAN,"Thank you ever so much for your note, which Albert gaveto me. How very, very kind of you to come here like this andto say . . .

　　"Hey, mister!""Good Heavens!" George glared. "What's the matter now? Haven't youfound that ginger-ale yet?""I've found the ginger-ile right enough, but I can't find thething.""The thing? What thing?""The thing. The thing wot you open ginger-ile with.""Oh, you mean the thing? It's in the middle drawer of the dresser.

　　Use your eyes, my boy!""Wri'".

　　George gave an overwrought sigh and began the letter again.

　　"DEAR MR. BEVAN,"Thank you ever so much for your note which Albert gaveto me. How very, very kind of you to come here like this andto say that you would help me. And how clever of you tofind me after I was so secretive that day in the cab! Youreally can help me, if you are willing. It's too long toexplain in a note, but I am in great trouble, and there isnobody except you to help me. I will explain everythingwhen I see you. The difficulty will be to slip away fromhome. They are watching me every moment, I'm afraid. But Iwill try my hardest to see you very soon.

　　Yours sincerely,"MAUD MARSH."Just for a moment it must be confessed, the tone of the letterdamped George. He could not have said just what he had expected,but certainly Reggie's revelations had prepared him for somethingrather warmer, something more in the style in which a girl wouldwrite to the man she loved. The next moment, however, he saw howfoolish any such expectation had been. How on earth could anyreasonable man expect a girl to let herself go at this stage of theproceedings? It was for him to make the first move. Naturally shewasn't going to reveal her feelings until he had revealed his.

　　George raised the letter to his lips and kissed it vigorously.

　　"Hey, mister!"George started guiltily. The blush of shame overspread his cheeks.

　　The room seemed to echo with the sound of that fatuous kiss.

　　"Kitty, Kitty, Kitty!" he called, snapping his fingers, andrepeating the incriminating noise. "I was just calling my cat," heexplained with dignity. "You didn't see her in there, did you?"Albert's blue eyes met his in a derisive stare. The lid of the leftone fluttered. It was but too plain that Albert was not convinced.

　　"A little black cat with white shirt-front," babbled Georgeperseveringly. "She's usually either here or there, or--orsomewhere. Kitty, Kitty, Kitty!"The cupid's bow of Albert's mouth parted. He uttered one word.

　　"Swank!"There was a tense silence. What Albert was thinking one cannot say.

　　The thoughts of Youth are long, long thoughts. What George wasthinking was that the late King Herod had been unjustly blamed fora policy which had been both statesmanlike and in the interests ofthe public. He was blaming the mawkish sentimentality of the modernlegal system which ranks the evisceration and secret burial ofsmall boys as a crime.

　　"What do you mean?""You know what I mean.""I've a good mind to--"Albert waved a deprecating hand.

　　"It's all right, mister. I'm yer friend.""You are, are you? Well, don't let it about. I've got a reputationto keep up.""I'm yer friend, I tell you. I can help yer. I want to help yer!"George's views on infanticide underwent a slight modification.

　　After all, he felt, much must be excused to Youth. Youth thinks itfunny to see a man kissing a letter. It is not funny, of course; itis beautiful; but it's no good arguing the point. Let Youth haveits snigger, provided, after it has finished sniggering, it intendsto buckle to and be of practical assistance. Albert, as an ally,was not to be despised. George did not know what Albert's duties asa page-boy were, but they seemed to be of a nature that gave himplenty of leisure and freedom; and a friendly resident of thecastle with leisure and freedom was just what he needed.

　　"That's very good of you," he said, twisting his reluctantfeatures into a fairly benevolent smile.

　　"I can 'elp!" persisted Albert. "Got a cigaroot?""Do you smoke, child?""When I get 'old of a cigaroot I do.""I'm sorry I can't oblige you. I don't smoke cigarettes.""Then I'll 'ave to 'ave one of my own," said Albert moodily.

　　He reached into the mysteries of his pocket and produced a piece ofstring, a knife, the wishbone of a fowl, two marbles, a crushedcigarette, and a match. Replacing the string, the knife, thewishbone and the marbles, he ignited the match against the tightestpart of his person and lit the cigarette.

　　"I can help yer. I know the ropes.""And smoke them," said George, wincing.

　　"Pardon?""Nothing."Albert took an enjoyable whiff.

　　"I know all about yer.""You do?""You and Lidy Mord.""Oh, you do, do you?""I was listening at the key-'ole while the row was goin' on.""There was a row, was there?"A faint smile of retrospective enjoyment lit up Albert's face. "Anorful row! Shoutin' and yellin' and cussin' all over the shop.

　　About you and Lidy Maud.""And you drank it in, eh?""Pardon?""I say, you listened?""Not 'arf I listened. Seeing I'd just drawn you in the sweepstike,of course, I listened--not 'arf!"George did not follow him here.

　　"The sweepstike? What's a sweepstike?""Why, a thing you puts names in 'ats and draw 'em and theone that gets the winning name wins the money.""Oh, you mean a sweepstake!""That's wot I said--a sweepstike."George was still puzzled.

　　"But I don't understand. How do you mean you drew me in asweepstike--I mean a sweepstake? What sweepstake?""Down in th............