his glass, he nodded at Selwyn with a smile.

"You were mighty nice to me, anyhow," he said, setting his glass aside
and lighting a cigar. "You see, I went to a dance, and after a while
some of us cleared out, and Jack Ruthven offered us trouble; so half a
dozen of us went there. I had the worst cards a man ever drew to a
kicker. That was all about it."

The boy was utterly unconscious that he was treading on delicate ground
as he rattled on in his warmhearted, frank, and generous way. Totally
oblivious that the very name of Ruthven must be unwelcome if not
offensive to his listener, he laughed through a description of the
affair, its thrilling episodes, and Mrs. Jack Ruthven's blind luck in
the draw.

"One moment," interrupted Selwyn, very gently; "do you mind saying
whether you banked my check and drew against it?"

"Why, no; I just endorsed it over."

"To--to whom?--if I may venture--"

"Certainly," he said, with a laugh; "to Mrs. Jack--" Then, in a flash,
for the first time the boy realised what he was saying, and stopped
aghast, scarlet to his hair.

Selwyn's face had little colour remaining in it, but he said very
kindly: "It's all right, Gerald; don't worry--"

"I'm a beast!" broke out the boy; "I beg your pardon a thousand times."