Don't think I wish to excuse myself for one moment. Absolutely
criminal. I knew what was at stake. But I thought the thing was sure.
It promised at the least twenty-five per cent. We should have started
brilliantly at Bristol--several thousands for advertisement, beyond our
estimate. I don't think the Biggles people were dishonest--"

"You don't _think_ so!" interrupted Will, contemptuously. "If there's
any doubt we know on which side it weighs. Just tell me the facts. What
was the security?"

Sherwood replied with a brief, clear, and obviously honest account of
the speculation into which he had been drawn. To the listener it seemed
astounding that any responsible man should be lured by such gambler's
chance; he could hardly find patience to point out the manifest risks
so desperately incurred. And Sherwood admitted the full extent of his
folly; he could only repeat that he had acted on an irresistible
impulse, to be explained, though not defended, by the embarrassment in
which he found himself.

"Thank Heaven, this is over!" he exclaimed at last, passing his
handkerchief over a moist forehead. "I don't know how I got through
last night. More than once, I thought it would be easier to kill myself
than to come and face you. But there was the certainty that I could
make good your loss. I may be able to do so very soon. I've written
to--"

He checked himself on the point of uttering a name; then with eyes
down, reflected for a moment.

"No; I haven't the right to tell you, though I should like to, to give
you confidence. It's the story of the ten thousand pounds, you
remember? When I lent that money, I promised never to let any one know.
Even if I can't realise your capital at once, I can pay you good
interest until the money's forthcoming. That would be the same thing to
you?"

Warburton gave him a keen look, and said gravely--

"Let's understand each other, Sherwood. Have you any income at all?"

"None whatever now, except the interest on the ten thousand; and
that--well, I'm sorry to say it hasn't been paid very regularly. But in
future it must be--it _shall_ be. Between two and three thousand are
owing to me for arrears."

"It's a queer story."

"I know it is," admitted Godfrey. "But I hope you don't doubt my word?"

"No, I don't--What's to be done about Applegarth?"

"I must see him," replied Sherwood with a groan. "Of course you have no
part in the miserable business. I must write at once, and then g