nstead of this.'

The boy's eyes lighted up. Gratitude looked out of them. Then
they changed. It seemed that gloomy Fear had taken Gratitude's
place at the double window. Donald stammered a bit; then he spoke
out. 'I'd like to lie to you, like I did last night; but I can't
somehow. No, I'm going to tell you utter' truth. I'd like you to
give me the money well enough in one way. But if you did I know
what I'd do. You don't know how gone-in I am. If I ever got as
far as Capetown I'd drink out what was left there, or I'd blow it
some way. But I'd never get so far as Capetown; I'll be honest
with you. Yet thanks all the same. You meant kindly.'

'That's all right,' Home said kindly enough. 'Thanks for being
straight. I thought over that first plan of mine last night. I
wasn't long in chucking it for a second.' The boy listened
languidly. 'I was going second,' Home went on; 'I was going
second if I'd gone alone. Now let's both go together! Supposing I
square the Jew for you probably you understated his account a bit
(I've allowed for that) I may have enough for two thirds and
something to spare. You won't mind my going too, and my keeping
the bag, will you?'

'Mind?' the other said. 'I shouldn't think I'd mind, seeing it's
a one-and-only sort of chance. But I don't see why you should
give it me.'

'It's only paying you something on account,' Home said.
'Remember, there'll be a credit balance still after the journey's
over, but you'll give me a little time to pay off that, won't
you?'

So they went together in the following week by a slow train, the
same sort of slow train as had carried them of old one that
stopped at Peppertree Siding.

'I'd like to refund you,' the boy said while they waited there.
He was beginning to get a little of his own back by then, Home
thought; Home was beginning to suffer him as an inseparable much
more gladly. 'I've written some things that might sell,' Donald
murmured; 'things I wrote when I was traveling in lonely places
among the hills, or in the bush-veld, or by the river that held
me up for three days.'

'What sort of things? "Sir Galahad" sort of things?' Home asked
with a twinkle.

The boy shuddered. 'No, just the other sort of things,' he
answered. 'Not seeing everything right because one feels right,
but seeing everything devilish because one feels devilish.'

'Hadn't you better, perhaps, burn the lot?' Home said. 'Don't
talk about a refund to me. Why, man, I tell you I ow