"Might cost"--Bindle paused to think--"might cost a matter of twenty or
thirty quid to do it in style."

"Right-oh! Out with it, my merry Bindle," cried Tom Little. "Travers
and Guggers alone would pay up for a good rag, but it must be top-hole,
mind."

"Yes," said Bindle, with a grin; "it 'ud be top-'ole right enough."
And Bindle's grin expanded.

"Out with it, man," cried Dick Little. "Don't you see we're aching to
hear?"

"Well," said Bindle, "if the exes was all right I might sort o' go down
an' see 'ow my nephew, Mr. Gravy, was gettin' on at----"

With a whoop of delight Tom Little sprang up, seized Bindle round the
waist, and waltzed him round the room, upsetting three chairs and a
small table, and finally depositing him breathless in his chair.

"You're a genius, O Bindle! Dick, we're out of it with the
incomparable Bindle."

Dick Little leaned back in his easy chair and gazed admiringly at
Bindle, as he pulled with obvious enjoyment at his cigar.

"Course I never been a millionaire, but I dessay I'd get through
without disgracin' meself. The only thing that 'ud worry me 'ud be
'avin' about 'alf a gross o' knives an' forks for every meal, an' a
dozen glasses. But I'm open to consider anythink that's goin'."

"The only drawback," remarked Little, "would be the absence of the
millions."

"That would sort o' be a obstacle," admitted Bindle.

After a pause Dick Little continued, "If you were to have your expenses
paid, with a new rig-out and, say, five pounds for yourself, do you
think that for three or four days you could manage to be a millionaire?"

"Don't you worry," was Bindle's response.

"What about the real Josiah Williams?" Dick Little had enquired.

"All fudge, at least the millions are," his brother replied. "The
unspeakable Reggie could not repudiate the relationship without giving
the whole show away. It's immense!" He mixed himself another
whisky-and-soda. "I'll talk it over with Travers and Guggers and wire
you on Wednesday. Good-bye, Bindle." And he was gone.

That night Bindle stayed late at Little's flat, and talked long and
earnestly. As he came away he remarked:

"Of course you'll remember, sir, that millionaires is rather inclined
to be a bit dressy, and I'd like to do the thing properly. Maybe, with
some paper inside, I might even be able to wear a top 'at."

II

One Tuesday afternoon, when Reginald Graves entered his rooms, he found
awaiting him a copy of