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T was nearly ten o'clock in the evening. Gerald was in bed and asleep. Mr. Hilliard was lying back in his leather armchair, his eyes resting thoughtfully on the ceiling.

Opposite him, looking into his face, sat Philip.

"Well," remarked his host, "here we have sat ever since dinner, going over the whole affair from beginning to end! We're not any closer to solving some knots in it than we were when we started. Still, I fancy we've guessed all that is necessary, my boy. You're tired out. So am I. What's left gets the best of me completely. We'd better go to bed."

"And what about your advertising, sir?"

"O, that must be attended to, of course; as soon as George comes, in fact. It will not likely trace the scamp or make any difference, so far as