d took the easy-chair, and discovering a box of cigarettes
upon the table, helped himself. Then his eyes fell upon Miss Brown.

"Can't do without your secretary?" he remarked.

"Impossible!" Peter Ruff answered. "As I told you before, I am her
guarantee that what you say to me, or before her, is spoken as though to
the dead."

Sir Richard nodded.

"Just as well," he remarked, "for I am going to talk about a man who I
wish were dead!"

"There are few of us," Peter Ruff said, "who have not our enemies."

"Have you any experience of blackmailers?" Sir Richard asked.

"In my profession," Peter Ruff answered, "I have come across such
persons."

"I have come to see you about one," Sir Richard proceeded. "Many years
ago, there was a fellow in my regiment who went to the bad--never mind
his name. He passes to-day as Ted Jones--that name will do as well as
another. I am not," Sir Richard continued, "a good-natured man, but some
devilish impulse prompted me to help that fellow. I gave him money three
or four times. Somehow, I don't think it's a very good thing to give a
man money. He doesn't value it--it comes too easily. He spends it and
wants more."

"There's a good deal of truth in what you say, Sir Richard," Peter Ruff
admitted.

"Our friend, for instance, wanted more," Sir Richard continued. "He came
to me for it almost as a matter of course. I refused. He came again; I
lost my temper and punched his head. Then his little game began."

Peter Ruff nodded.

"He had something to work upon, I suppose?" he remarked.

"Most certainly he had," Sir Richard admitted. "If ever I achieved
sufficient distinction in any branch of life to make it necessary that
my biography should be written, I promise you that you would find it in
many places a little highly colored. In other words, Mr. Ruff, I have
not always adhered to the paths of righteousness."

A faint smile flickered across Peter Ruff's face.

"Sir Richard," he said, "your candor is admirable."

"There was one time," Sir Richard continued, "when I was really on my
last legs. It was just before I came into the baronetcy. I had borrowed
every penny I could borrow. I was even hard put to it for a meal. I went
to Paris, and I called myself by another man's name. I got introduced to
a somewhat exclusive club there. My assumed name was a good one--it
was the name, in fact, of a relative whom I somewhat resembled. I was
accepted without question. I played cards, and I