him that afternoon and asked for
permission to take two days' holiday did his manner change. With a
courtesy entirely free from that extravagance to which she had grown
accustomed, he acceded to her request, and she was on the point of
explaining to him the reason she had so unexpectedly asked for a
vacation, but the memory of his earlier manner checked her.

It was a very simple explanation. Jackson Hyane was a very plausible
man. Marguerite Whitland had heard something of her erratic cousin,
but certainly nothing in his manner supported the more lurid
descriptions of his habits. And Mr. Jackson Hyane had begged her, in
the name of their relationships, to take a trip to Aberdeen to examine
title-deeds which, he explained, would enable her to join with him in
an action of the recovery of valuable Whitland property which was in
danger of going to the Crown, and she had consented.

The truth was, there had always been some talk in the family of these
estates, though nobody knew better than Jackson Hyane how unsubstantial
were the claims of the Whitlands to the title. But the Scottish estate
had been docketed away in the pigeon-holes of his mind, and promised to
be more useful than he had anticipated.

That afternoon he packed his bag at his flat, put his passport and
railway tickets together in his inside pocket, and made his final
preparations for departure.

An old crony of his called whilst he was drinking the cup of tea which
the housekeeper of the flats had prepared, and took in the situation
revealed by the packed suit-cases and the burnt papers in the hearth.

"Hello, Johnny!" he said. "You're getting out, eh?"

Jackson nodded. There was no need to pretend anything with one of his
own class.

"Couldn't you square the bank?"

Jackson shook his head.

"No, Billy," he said cheerfully, "I couldn't square it. At this
identical moment there are several eminent people in the West End of
London who are making applications for warrants."

"Dud cheques, eh?" asked the other thoughtfully. "Well, it had to
come, Johnny. You've had a lot of bad luck."

"Atrocious," said Mr. Jackson Hyane. "There's plenty of money in Town,
but it's absolutely impossible to get at it. I haven't touched a mug
for two months, and I've backed more seconds than I care to think
about. Still," he mused, "there's a chance."

His friends nodded. In their circle there was always "a chance," but
he could not guess that that cha