In Friendship's Guise

. A cold tub freshened him, and as he dressed with scrupulous care, choosing his clothes from a well-filled wardrobe, he occasionally walked to the window of his sitting-room and looked down on th

ill ate his breakfast with the mechanical air of one who is doing a tiresome but necessary thing, meanwhile consulting a tiny memorandum-book, and counting over a handful of loose gold and silver. Then he put on his hat and gloves, looked at the fit of his gray frock-coat in the gla

ld, without the need of toiling or spinning. He lived in expensive rooms, dined at the best restaurants, and belonged to a couple of good clubs. To his friends this was no matter of surprise or conjecture. They were aware that he was well-conne

they were spent he had drifted into degraded and evil ways. None had ever dared to whisper-none had ever suspected-that Victor Nevill was a rook for money-lenders and a dangerous friend for young men. He knew what a perilous game he was playing, but he studied every move and guarded shrewdly against discovery. There were many reas

whose invitations to come and have a drink he declined on the plea of an engagement. Just beyond Devonshire House he was ac

arelessly, as he shook hands.

half an hour over the time, Vic.

ntended," Nevill replie

night of sle

tes, so far as dress was concerned. But there was a strained look on his handsome, patrician face, and in his blue ey

adingly and hurriedly. "Were you

here is no othe

ve until this ev

aw Benjamin and C

will accom

t my re

est fellow that ever lived, and I can't tell you how grateful I am. God only knows what a weight you've lift

gratitude over a trifle. Could I re

done as much, Vic. I was in an awful hol

te entre nous. There are plenty of chaps-good fellows, too-who wo

Vic. I'll be mu

the thing over," said Nevill,

es. Through a dingy and unpretentious doorway, unmarked by sign or plate, they passed into the premises of Benjamin

A three-months' bill for five hundred pounds was drawn up for Bertie's signature and Nevill's indorsement. The lad hesitated briefly, then wrote his name in a bold hand. He resisted

ealized that he had taken the first step on a road that too frequently ends in disgrace and ruin. But this moo

f me. I can pay off those cursed gambling losses, and a couple of the most pressing debts, and have near

's my advice,"

I'll think about it seriously. B

h with me," said Nevil

umber 320, which by chance or design failed to display the name of its proprietor, differed from its neighbors in one marked respect. Instead of the usual conglomerate mass, articles of value cheek by jowl with worthless rubbish, the long windo

estored and pictures cracked and faded, cases filled with dainty objects of gold and silver, brass work from Moorish and Saracenic craftsmen, tall suits of armor, helmets and

tly paintings hung on the walls. The chairs and desk, the huge couch, would have graced a palace, and a piece of priceless tapestry partly overhung th

is character, for in many ways he was a contradiction. He was not miserly, but his besetting evil was the love of accumulating money-the lever that had made him thoroughly unscrupulous. He was rich, or reputed so, but in amassing gold, by fair means or foul, lay the keynote to his life. And it was a dual life. He had chosen the old mansion at Strand-on-the-Green to be out of the roar and turmoil of London life, and yet within touch of it. Here, where his evenings were mostly

g of acquaintances, would have believed that he could stoop to lower things, or that he and his equally unscrupulous and useful tool, Victor Nevill, the gay young-man-about-town, had been mixed up in more than one nefarious transaction that would not bear the light of day. He had taken

iliar step coming through the shop. But he had a cheery smile of greeting ready when the office door opened to admit Victor N

ng editions yet

them?" asked th

way, he took the hook," Nevill replied, in a calmer tone, "and wh

ded it twice, and tossed it