hed it,
he gave himself up to a spasm of silent laughter.

"Christian burial!" he chuckled. "Oh, yes, he shall have Christian
burial in the family vaults. Lucky job for me the hound died, or the
game would have been all up. As it is, that fool--that popinjay, almost
guessed. Well, deny everything and demand proof, that's my line. After
all, it's the very risks and chances that make the game so fascinating."

He sat down and drew out a little note-book--only a very ordinary penny
note-book; for it was wonderful how mean this man could be when he had
to expend his own money. Save clothes, which necessarily had to be of
good material, though quiet in colour, he never failed to buy the
cheapest article obtainable; unless, of course, when, on the principle
of "throwing a sprat to catch a herring," he stood to make a profit.

In this little book there lay the records of fortunes. A fortune spent
by Leroy--a fortune gained by Jasper Vermont. He smiled to himself, as
he closed one eye, and counted up the gains he had netted through this
day's work.

"Eight--ten, with Yorkshire Twining's last little touch--ten thousands
pounds. Ah, if those fools knew how the 'intruder' was stripping them of
golden plumes, how mad they would be! Ten thousand pounds! But Twining
was too risky," he muttered, frowning at the recollection, "My grand
knight might have smelled a rat. Just like his noble lordship; two to
one, because some stranger doubts the strength of the animal's legs."

He chuckled again as he thought how carefully he had stage-managed the
day's comedy. Of the tragedy into which it had been turned by the death
of his poor tool and accomplice, Peacock, he gave no thought, his whole
mind was bound up in his jealous hatred of Leroy. Just why he hated him
so he, himself, could hardly have explained; but with men of Jasper
Vermont's calibre, the mere fact that one possesses so much--wealth,
position, and popularity--while the other must perforce live by his
wits, is quite sufficient to arouse all the evil passions of which he is
capable.

"A mighty regal way he has with him," he muttered again, as he put away
his book. "Ten thousand pounds! Go on, Jasper, my boy--persevere! The
game starts well, the winning cards are yours. Gentlemen, make your
game, the ball is rolling."

With this invitation to mankind in general, and his titled and wealthy
acquaintances in particular, Mr. Jasper Vermont made his preparations
for the night. He