R BOURNE,
"Twenty, if you like.--Yours,
"J. ACTON."

Jack went, and when Acton put him into the easy-chair and noticed his
white, fagged face, he felt genuinely sorry for him.

"You look seedy, young 'un."

"I hope I don't look as seedy as I feel, that's all."

"What's the matter?"

Jack boggled over what he'd come to say, but finally blurted out:
"Acton, would you lend me seven pounds? I'm in a hole, the deuce of a
hole; in fact, I'm pretty well hopelessly stumped. I'll tell you why if
you ask me, but I hope you won't. I've been an ass, but I've collared
some awful luck, and I'm not quite the black sheep I seem. I don't want
to ask Phil--in fact, I couldn't, simply couldn't ask him for this. I'll
pay you back beginning of next term if I can raise as much, and if not,
as much as I can then, and the rest later."

"Oh, you're straight enough, young 'un, and I'll lend you the money,"
said Acton.

Jack blubbed in his thanks, for he was really run down.

"Keep up your pecker, Bourne. Borrowing isn't a crime, quite. When do
you want the cash?"

"By to-morrow, please," said Jack.

"Call in for it, then, before afternoon school, and you can pay me back
as you say. I suppose the sharks have got hold of you."

"Yes," said Jack, with perfect truth, though he only knew of one, and he
went to bed that night blessing Acton. His gorge rose when he thought of
his fleecing, and at this he almost blubbed with rage as he blubbed with
gratitude to Acton.

That interesting Shylock, Raffles, was at the farm confidently waiting
young Bourne and his coins, and when he saw the young innocent bowling
furiously down the road, he sighed with satisfaction. His dream was
true.

"Write out the receipt."

"I've already done it, Mr. Bourne."

"Then here's your blackmail."

"Correct to the figure, sir, and I think it's a settle, nice and
comfortable for all parties."

"If it's any comfort for you to know you're an utter blackguard you can
hear it. A fellow like you isn't on the same level as your filthy
mongrel."

"I never said we was," murmured Raffles, as he shuffled away.

CHAPTER XVIII

HODGSON'S QUIETUS

Acton now felt pretty safe as regards young Bourne. He held him fast in
the double bonds of indebtedness and of gratitude, and with Jack the
gratitude was by far the greater. Acton had saved him from disgrace,
from a lengthened stringing up, from the scorn of his brother, from the
jeers and laughter of the r