rowed
thirty pounds from a tradesman?"

Denial being fatuous, Beaumont-Greene said--

"Yes, sir."

"You know, I suppose, that Harrow tradesmen are expressly forbidden to
lend boys money?"

"I am hardly a boy, sir. And--er--under the circumstances----"

Warde smiled very grimly.

"Ah--under the circumstances. Have you any objection to telling me the
exact circumstances?"

"Not at all, sir. I wished to make some presents to my friends. I am
going to give a large leaving-breakfast."

"Oh! Still, thirty pounds is a large sum----"

"Not to my father, sir. I--er--thought of coming to you, sir, with
that letter."

"Did you?"

Warde took the letter from the envelope, and glanced at it with faint
interest, so Beaumont-Greene thought. Then he picked up a magnifying
glass and played with it. It was a trick of his to pick up objects on
his desk, and turn them in his thin nervous fingers. Beaumont-Greene
was not seriously alarmed. He had great faith in a weapon which had
served him faithfully, his lying tongue.

"Yes, sir. I thought you would be willing to advance the money for a
few days, and then----"

"And then?"

"And then I thought I wouldn't bother you. It never occurred to me
that I was getting a tradesman into trouble. I hope you won't be hard
on him, sir."

"I shall not be hard on him," said Warde, "because"--for a moment his
eyes flashed--"because he came to me and confessed his fault; but I
won't deny that I gave him a very uncomfortable quarter of an hour. He
sat in your chair."

Beaumont-Greene shuffled uneasily.

"Have you this thirty pounds in your pocket?" asked Warde, casually.

Beaumont-Greene began to regret his haste in settling.

"No, sir."

"Some of it?"

"None of it."

"You sent it to London? To buy these handsome presents?"

"Ye-es, sir."

"You hadn't much time. Lock-up's early, and you received the money in
gold. Did you buy Orders?"

Beaumont-Greene's head began to buzz. He found himself wondering why
Warde was speaking in this smooth, quiet voice, so different from his
usual curt, incisive tones.

"Yes, sir."

"At the Harrow post-office?"

"Yes, sir."

"Ah."

Again the house-master picked up the letter, but this time he didn't
lay down the lens. Instead he used it, very deliberately.
Beaumont-Greene shivered; with difficulty he clenched his teeth, so as
to prevent them clicking like castanets. Then Warde held up the sheet
of paper to the lig