only I had that two of diamonds! It's
sure to be the last card."

"How you can sit there playing cards!"

"I'm too old to walk about."

Cranbourne stopped and looked at him.

"Mr. Torrington," he said. "Has it occurred to you that in undertaking
this thing we have been guilty of grave wrong-doing? To line our own
pockets while we stayed safe at home men have gone out at the risk of
their lives. We may talk of adventure--the romance of business--we may
call our job by a dozen pretty names, but it analyses out at something
fairly damnable when we apply the supreme test."

Mr. Torrington nodded.

"And yet what is the alternative?" he asked. "Life is only a matter of
diamond cut diamond."

"It's a scavenger's job," said Cranbourne. "And you can't get away
from that."

"Without conflict there would be no progress."

Cranbourne shook his head angrily.

"What right have we to control other men's destinies?" he said. "Where
is the justice that puts such men as ourselves in command?"

"Opportunity does that, not justice," said Mr. Torrington slowly. "My
first employment was cleaning windows. I saw a man, who was so
engaged, fall from a fourth floor sill into the street. I picked him
up dead, carried him into the building and I asked for his job. A
nasty story isn't it?"

Cranbourne snorted.

"It covers us all," he said. "We spend our lives robbing flowers from
cemeteries, keeping our souls in our trousers pockets along with the
other small change. Hullo!"

Doran opened the door and announced Nugent Cassis. That meant that all
over the town clocks would be striking eleven.

"Any news?" he rapped out.

"None."

"But there wouldn't be," said Cranbourne. "He promised to send a
message when he was nearing home. It's time he was here." The little
man was plainly agitated.

Hilbert Torrington smiled at him over the carefully arranged playing
cards.

"They tell me, Cassis, your wife has been indisposed. I trust she is
better."

"I really don't know," came the irritable response. "You can hardly
expect----"

"These trifles so easily escape us," murmured the old man.

Nugent Cassis scowled and turned to Cranbourne.

"How's that other fellow getting on? What's his name--Altar?"

"He's holding out."

"At Laurence's house?"

"I believe so."

"You've heard from the woman lately!"

"Not lately."

"I've a doubt about that woman. She's been seen a good bit with the
American. I've