But we won't worry about that until we get there."

"Did he shell out at all?"

"He didn't quite give me carte blanche," retorted Greek, grinning. "A
ticket to ride as far as I wanted to, and five hundred in the long
green. And it's going rather fast, Roger, my boy."

"And my tickets came out of the five hundred?"

Greek nodded.

"It's devilish the way my luck's gone lately," grumbled Roger. "I
don't know when I can ever pay--"

Greek put up his hand swiftly.

"You don't pay at all," he said, emphatically. "This is my treat. It
was mighty decent of you to drop everything and come along with me
into this d----d exile. And," he finished, easily, "I'll have more
money than I'll know what to do with when the old man gets
soft-hearted again."

"He's d----d hard on you, Greek. He's got more--"

"Oh, I don't know." Greek laughed again. "He's a good sort, and we get
along first rate together. Only he's got some infernally uncomfortable
ideas about a man going to work and doing something for himself in
this little old vale of tears. He shaves himself five times out of
six, and I've seen him black his own boots!" He chuckled amusedly.