know he threatened to kill me?" he asked.

Kara smiled.

"I can tell you it was no laughing matter," said the other, angrily,
"I nearly took the little whippersnapper by the scruff of the neck and
kicked him."

Kara dropped his hand on the other's arm.

"I am not laughing at you," he said; "I am laughing at the thought of
Vassalaro threatening to kill anybody. He is the biggest coward in the
world. What on earth induced him to take this drastic step?"

"He said he is being hard pushed for money," said the other, moodily,
"and it is possibly true. He was beside himself with anger and anxiety,
otherwise I might have given the little blackguard the thrashing he
deserved."

Kara who had continued his stroll came down the room and halted in front
of the fireplace looking at the young author with a paternal smile.

"You don't understand Vassalaro," he said; "I repeat he is the greatest
coward in the world. You will probably discover he is full of firearms
and threats of slaughter, but you have only to click a revolver to see
him collapse. Have you a revolver, by the way?"

"Oh, nonsense," said the other, roughly, "I cannot engage myself in that
kind of melodrama."

"It is not nonsense," insisted the other, "when you are in Rome, et
cetera, and when you have to deal with a low-class Greek you must use
methods which will at least impress him. If you thrash him, he will
never forgive you and will probably stick a knife into you or your wife.
If you meet his melodrama with melodrama and at the psychological moment
produce your revolver; you will secure the effect you require. Have you
a revolver?"

John went to his desk and, pulling open a drawer, took out a small
Browning.

"That is the extent of my armory," he said, "it has never been fired and
was sent to me by an unknown admirer last Christmas."

"A curious Christmas present," said the other, examining the weapon.

"I suppose the mistaken donor imagined from my books that I lived in
a veritable museum of revolvers, sword sticks and noxious drugs," said
Lexman, recovering some of his good humour; "it was accompanied by a
card."

"Do you know how it works?" asked the other.

"I have never troubled very much about it," replied Lexman, "I know that
it is loaded by slipping back the cover, but as my admirer did not send
ammunition, I never even practised with it."

There was a knock at the door.

"That is the post," explained John.

The maid had one letter