he sighed in sympathy, then mixed another whisky
and soda, and passed on to official matters.

A little later Captain Harben harked back to the former question. "He's
got plenty of pluck. He was all there when it came to a fight. I like
him."

"So do I," the other answered, "only I guess pluck of that sort won't
help him much in England, and you know, or at least I know, that a
fellow who's knocked about a lot doesn't suit civilisation, or
civilisation doesn't suit him--put it which way you like, the result is
the same. His nerves go under, somehow, and it ends so," nodding towards
the whisky bottle.

Meanwhile Grierson was sitting on the verandah of his dead employer's
house staring out into the night, and trying to make plans for the
future.

"Whatever happens, I don't mean to starve again," he muttered.

PEOPLE OF POSITION

CHAPTER I

Mrs. Marlow flicked a crumb off her dress with rather unnecessary care.
"I've had a most annoying letter from Jimmy to-day. It came by the
second post, after Henry had gone to the City, and quite upset me. His
employer, Mr. Locke, has been killed in some disgraceful riot, and now
Jimmy himself is coming home. Of course, in a way, I shall be glad to
see him, and so will the rest of the family; but I know he's got no
money, and no profession to fall back upon, and I cannot see what he is
going to do for a living. If I asked him to do so, I have no doubt Henry
would make a place for him in the office; but I am not going to have my
husband burdened with my brother. Henry is too generous as it is; and
the Stock Exchange is in such a fearful state now that it is difficult
to make a bare living." She sighed heavily, and glanced round the
expensively furnished drawing-room, as if wondering whether that
abominable tendency towards suspicion on the part of the public, which
was causing it to eschew all sorts of speculation, might not result in
her losing the few luxuries she did possess.

Her visitor, Mrs. Grimmer, wife of the junior partner in the well-known
City firm of Hornaday, Grimes, and Grimmer, dried fruit brokers, nodded
with an affectation of sympathy which she did not feel--the Marlows had
a touring car and a motor-brougham, whilst she had only a one-horse
carriage--and held out her cup to be refilled. She had known her hostess
for a good many years, over thirty in fact, ever since she and May
Marlow, who was then May Grierson and had thick flaxen plaits tied w