Laverick laughed like a child.

"Don't think I'm mad," he apologized, "but I am not a person like
you, Bellamy, - used to adventures and this sort of wild happenings.
I'm a steady-going, matter-of-fact Englishman, and this thing has
been like a hateful nightmare to me. I can't believe that I'm going
to get rid of it."

Bellamy smiled.

"It's a great adventure," he declared, "to come to any one like you.
To tell you the truth, I can't imagine how you had the pluck - don't
misunderstand me, I mean the moral pluck - to run such a risk. Why,
at the moment you used those notes," Bellamy continued, "the odds
must have been about twenty to one against your not being found out."

"One doesn't stop to count the odds," Laverick said grimly. "I saw
a chance of salvation and I went for it. And now about this letter."

Bellamy rose to his feet.

"On the King's service!" he whispered softly.

They walked once more to the cashier's desk. A stranger greeted them.
Laverick produced his receipt.

"I should like the packet I deposited here this evening," he said.
"I am sorry to trouble you, but I find that I require it unexpectedly."