ve, and was
pensive. It was deuced awkward, this twenty pounds business.

Hargate was watching him covertly. It was his business to know other
people's business, and he knew that Lord Dreever was impecunious,
and depended for supplies entirely on a prehensile uncle. For the
success of the proposal he was about to make, he depended on this
fact.

"Who's this man Pitt?" asked Hargate.

"Oh, pal of mine," said his lordship. "Why?"

"I can't stand the fellow."

"I think he's a good chap," said his lordship. "In fact,"
remembering Jimmy's Good Samaritanism, "I know he is. Why don't you
like him?"

"I don't know. I don't."

"Oh?" said his lordship, indifferently. He was in no mood to listen
to the likes and dislikes of other men.

"Look here, Dreever," said Hargate, "I want you to do something for
me. I want you to get Pitt out of the place."

Lord Dreever eyed his guest curiously.

"Eh?" he said.

Hargate repeated his remark.

"You seem to have mapped out quite a program for me," said Lord
Dreever.

"Get him out of it," continued Hargate vehemently. Jimmy's
prohibition against billiards had hit him hard. He was suffering the
torments of Tantalus. The castle was full of young men of the kind
to whom he most resorted, easy marks every one; and here he was,
simply through Jimmy, careened like a disabled battleship. It was
maddening. "Make him go. You invited him here. He doesn't expect to
stop indefinitely, I suppose? If you left, he'd have to, too. What
you must do is to go back to London to-morrow. You can easily make
some excuse. He'll have to go with you. Then, you can drop him in
London, and come back. That's what you must do."

A delicate pink flush might have been seen to spread itself over
Lord Dreever's face. He began to look like an angry rabbit. He had
not a great deal of pride in his composition, but the thought of the
ignominious role that Hargate was sketching out for him stirred what
he had to its shallow bottom. Talking on, Hargate managed to add the
last straw.

"Of course," he said, "that money you lost to me at picquet--what
was it? Twenty? Twenty pounds, wasn't it? Well, we would look on
that as canceled, of course. That will be all right."

His lordship exploded.

"Will it?" he cried, pink to the ears. "Will it, by George? I'll pay
you every frightful penny of it to-morrow, and then you can clear
out, instead of Pitt. What do you take me for, I should like to
know?"

"A fool, if