in my life. When he signed the receipt for it--I always get them to
sign a receipt, so that the company can see that I haven't kept the
money for myself--he nearly wept with joy."

"I should think he would," said Mr. Scutts, slowly--"if he wasn't hurt."

"You're the last on my list," said the other, hastily. He produced a
slip of paper from his pocket-book and placed it on the small table,
with a fountain pen. Then, with a smile that was both tender and
playful, he plunged his hand in his pocket and poured a stream of gold
on the table.

"What do you say to thir-ty pounds?" he said, in a hushed voice.
"Thirty golden goblins?"

"What for?" inquired Mr. Scutts, with a notable lack of interest.

"For--well, to go away for a day or two," said the visitor. "I find you
in bed; it may be a cold or a bilious attack; or perhaps you had a
little upset of the nerves when the trains kissed each other."

"I'm in bed--because--I can't walk-or stand," said Mr. Scutts, speaking
very distinctly. "I'm on my club, and if as 'ow I get well in a day or
two, there's no reason why the company should give me any money. I'm
pore, but I'm honest."

"Take my advice as a friend," said the other; "take the money while you
can get it."

He nodded significantly at Mr. Scutts and closed one eye. Mr. Scutts