himself once more face to face with
the only hope, Plank, he sat down to consider seriously the possibility
of the matter.

Of course Plank owed him more than he could ever pay--the ungrateful
parvenu!--but what Plank had thought of that cheque transaction he had
never been able to discover.

Somehow or other he must put Plank under fresh obligations; and that
might have been possible had not Leila invaded the ground, leaving
nothing, now that Plank was secure in club life.

Of course the first thing that presented itself to Mortimer's
consideration was the engineering of Plank's matrimonial ambitions.
Clearly the man had not changed. He was always at Sylvia's heels; he was
seen with her in public; he went to the Belwether house a great deal. No
possible doubt but that he was as infatuated as ever. And Quarrier was
going to marry her next November--that is, if he, Mortimer, chose to
keep silent about a certain midnight episode at Shotover.

It was his inclination, except in theory, to keep silent, partly because
of his native inertia and unwillingness to go to the physical and
intellectual exertion of being a rascal, partly because he didn't really
want to be a rascal of that sort.

Like a man with premonitions of toothache, who walks down to the
dentist's just to see what the number of the house looks like, and then
walks around the block to think it over, so Mortimer, suffering from
lack of money, walked round and round the central idea, unable to bring
himself to the point.

Several times he called up Quarrier on the 'phone and made appointments
to lunch with him; but these meetings never resulted in anything except
luncheons which Mortimer paid for, and matters were becoming desperate.

So one day, after having lunched too freely, he sat down and wrote Plank
the following note:

My Dear Beverly: You will remember that I once promised you my aid in
securing what, to you, is the dearest object of your existence. I have
thought, I have pondered, I have given the matter deep and, I may add
without irreverence, prayerful consideration, knowing that the life's
happiness of my closest friend depended on my judgment and wisdom and
intelligence to secure for him the opportunity to crown his life's
work by the acquisition of the brightest jewel in the diadem of old
Manhattan.

"By George! that's wickedly good, though!" chuckled Mortimer, refreshing
himself with his old stand-by, an apple, quartered, and soaked in v