concerned. I'm down on my uppers, so to
speak--my only assets are some worthless bonds. Behold! along comes an
offer for them at par--two hundred thousand dollars for nothing! I
fancy, old man, there is a friend back of this offer--the only friend I
have in the world--and I did not think that even he was kind and
self-sacrificing enough to do it.--I'm grateful, Colin, grateful from
the heart, believe me, but I can't take your money."

"My money!" exclaimed Macloud--"you do me too much credit, Croyden. I'm
ashamed to admit it, but I never thought of the bonds, or of helping
you out, in your trouble. It's a way we have in Northumberland. We may
feel for misfortune, but it rarely gets as far as our pockets. Don't
imagine for a moment that I'm the purchaser. I'm not, though I wish,
now, that I was."

"Will you give me your word on that?" Croyden demanded.

"I most assuredly will," Macloud answered.

Croyden nodded. He was satisfied.

"There is no one else!" he mused, "no one else!" He looked at the
letter again.... "And, yet, it is very suspicious, very suspicious....
I wonder, could I ascertain the name of the purchaser of the stocks and
bonds, from the Trust Company who held them as collateral?"

"They won't know," said Macloud. "Blaxham & Company bought them at the
public sale."

"I could try the transfer agent, or the registrar."

"They never tell anything, as you are aware," Macloud replied.

"I could refuse to sell unless Blaxham & Company disclosed their
customer."

"Yes, you could--and, likely, lose the sale; they won't disclose.
However, that's your business," Macloud observed; "though, it's a pity
to tilt at windmills, for a foolish notion."

Croyden creased and uncreased the letter--thinking.

Macloud resumed the smoke rings--and waited. It had proved easier than
he had anticipated. Croyden had not once thought of Elaine
Cavendish--and his simple word had been sufficient to clear
himself....

At length, Croyden put the letter back in its envelope and looked up.

"I'll sell the bonds," he said--"forward them at once with draft
attached, if you will witness my signature to the transfer. But it's a
queer proceeding, a queer proceeding: paying good money for bad!"

"That's his business--not yours," said Macloud, easily.

Croyden went to the escritoire and took the bonds from one of the
drawers.

"You can judge, from the place I keep them, how much I thought them
worth!" he laughed.

When they