"I should 'ave to lend you some--a little," said Mr. Wright.

[Illustration: "What I want you to do," said Mr. George Wright, "is to
be an uncle to me."]

The old man pondered. "I've had money lent me before," he said,
candidly, "but I can't call to mind ever paying it back. I always meant
to, but that's as far as it got."

"It don't matter," said the other. "It'll only be for a little while,
and then you'll 'ave a letter calling you back to New Zealand. See? And
you'll go back, promising to come home in a year's time, after you've
wound up your business, and leave us all your money. See?"

Mr. Kemp scratched the back of his neck. "But she's sure to find it out
in time," he objected.

"P'r'aps," said Mr. Wright. "And p'r'aps not. There'll be plenty of
time for me to get married before she does, and you could write back and
say you had got married yourself, or given your money to a hospital."

He ordered some more beer for Mr. Kemp, and in a low voice gave him as
much of the family history as he considered necessary.

"I've only known you for about ten days," he concluded, "but I'd sooner
trust you than people I've known for years."

"I took a fancy to you the moment I set eyes on you," rejoined Mr. Kemp.
"You're the living image of a young fellow that lent me five pounds once,
and was drowned afore my eyes the week after. He 'ad a bit of a squint,