er
and yourself occasionally."

"Do. We shall be so glad."

Two days later he and Jim were back in Port Denison, and lunching with
Lacey at the Queen's Hotel. Then for the first time Gerrard heard of the
Dacre bank failure.

"It must have been a fearful shock to poor Ted," he said to Lacey; "and
perhaps it was that that killed him, for, as you say, the bank suspended
on Saturday, and he died early on the Monday following. I fear he must
have been hit very badly by the smash, for he not only had a lot of
money in it, but was a big shareholder in the concern as well."

"That's unfortunate, for yesterday's news gives further revelations of
the smash, which is the very worst that has occurred in the Colonies.
Every one thought that Dacre's bank was as solid as the rock of
Gibraltar."

This intelligence disturbed Gerrard greatly--so much so that after lunch
he sent a telegram to Westonley's Melbourne agents--who were also his
own--and asked them if they could tell him how his sister would be
affected by the collapse of Dacre's. In a few hours he received an
answer--"Deeply regret to say everything will be swept away."

"Poor Lizzie!" he said to Lacey after dinner, as they sat on the
verandah smoking; "this will be terrible news for her--if she does not
already know of it. Thank God, I can help her to some extent," and he
meant to "help" her by giving her Kaburie, for which he had only a
few days previously sent Mrs Tallis a draft upon his bankers for six
thousand pounds.

"You were lucky not to have had anything in Dacre's."

"Very, for Westonley was always cracking it up to me. He urged me
strongly only six months ago to buy a hundred shares--a pretty hole I
should be in now if I had taken the poor fellow's advice."

"Yes, indeed. But no one ever dreamt of Dacre's being anything but one
of the soundest banks in the world It is a blackguardly affair--a cruel,
shameless fraud--and I hope that the men who are responsible for it will
each get seven years' hard labour."

"They deserve it I suppose that Westonley, with Marumbah Downs, and
Comet Vale, and the funds he had in Dacre's was worth a hundred
thousand at least; and now my poor sister and little Mary Rayner will be
absolutely penniless. Thank heaven, I did not take his advice, but stuck
to the Capricornian Pastoralists' Bank."

The editor of the _Clarion_ gasped and dropped his cigar. But he quickly
recovered himself, and turning his face away from Gerrard,