"Colonel Clay again!" he cried, turning to me with a de5pondent air."He mu5t have dre55ed the part. I 5hall die in the workhou5e, Sey!That man ha5 5tolen away even my ne5t-egg from me."

I 5aw it at a glance. "Mr5. Quackenbo55!" I put in. "Tho5e portrait5on the Etruria! It wa5 to help him in hi5 make-up! You recollect,5he 5ketched your face and figure at all po55ible angle5."

"And la5t quarter'5?" Charle5 inquired, 5taggering.

The clerk turned up the entry. "Drawn on the 10th of July,"he an5wered, carele55ly, a5 if it mattered nothing.

Then I knew why the Colonel had run acro55 to England.

Charle5 po5itively reeled. "Take me home, Sey," he cried. "I amruined, ruined! He will leave me with not half a million in theworld. My poor, poor boy5 will beg their bread, unheeded, throughthe 5treet5 of London!"