YE, OLD FELLOW."]

On the evening of the 14th November, 188-, Eustace Margraf, Esq.,
Director and Chairman of the Anglican Debenture Corporation, Ltd., eke
of the General Stock and Shareholders' Protective Union, Ltd., and
various other like speculative companies, sat in the luxurious
dining-room of his well-appointed residence in Lewisham Park. He had
finished his sumptuous but solitary meal, and, reclining in a spacious
armchair, sipped his rare old wine. It was three years all but a day
since he had parted from Charlie Osborne on Charing Cross Station, and
set out with eighteenpence in his pocket to seek his fortune. In that
brief time he had rapidly risen to wealth and distinction. Three years
ago he was a penniless mechanic, forsaken by Fortune and discontented
with his life; to-day he was a rich man, smiled on and courted by
Fortune and envied by all her minions, and still he was discontented
with his life.

It was strange that he should cherish this discontent, for Eustace
Margraf, mindful of the fact that he was made for something better than
mill work, had matriculated and graduated at the World's University in
the Department of Forgery and Theft. He had taken the highest diplomas
in fraud; he had passed with honours the test of an accomplished
swindler; and in the intricacies of embezzlement he was Senior Wrangler.
Yet he was not content; some men are never satisfied.

This evening, as he sat sampling his '18 Oporto, with the daily paper at
his elbow, he actually felt some amount of regret that he had entered
the course for such distinctions--which, by the way, his modesty forbade
him publishing to the world at large. Only a select few knew the extent
of his accomplishments.

In the paper at his side there was a little paragraph which had given
his memory a rather unpleasant jog. It was in the personal column, and
ran as follows: "E. M.--Don't forget to-morrow, noon, C. C.
Station.--Charlie." He wanted to see Charlie, for he still loved him
after his old fashion; but the memories which the advertisement called
up, and a doubt as to whether Charlie would appreciate his
accomplishments, made him fidgety; and the recollection of all that must
pass between now and noon to-morrow filled him with uneasiness. For
to-night he was to stake everything in one tremendous venture. If he
succeeded he would need to do nothing more all his life; if he
failed----

To-night, at eight o'clock, the Continental mail train wo