"You see," went on the barrister, "it is best to be quite candid with
people whom you wish to bring into risky if apparently high promising
ventures. I presume these gentlemen are moneyless. If so, it is a factor
in favor of your scheme. Should any of them be men of means, my
principals would naturally ask why they did not themselves underwrite
the shares."

Mr. Dodge was convinced. "From that point of view," he cried
emphatically, "they are above suspicion. Jot them down, sir."

The barrister armed himself with the necessary documents, and they
parted with mutual good wishes. It was only after reflection that Mr.
Dodge saw how remarkably little he had got out of the interview. "He was
a jolly smart chap," communed the company promoter. "I wonder what he
was really after. And who the dickens is Mr. Sydney H. Corbett? Anyhow,
the Springbok business is quite above board. How can I raise the wind
for my little lot?"

If Mr. Bruce had probed more deeply Mr. Dodge's holding, he would have
been saved much future perturbation. But, clever as he was, he did not
know all the methods of financial juggling practised by experts on the
Stock Exchange.

A hansom brought him quickly to Portman Square. In fulfilment of his
promise, he was about to place Sir Charles Dyke in possession of his
recent discoveries.

When the door of Wensley House opened, the butler, Thompson, who
happened to be in the hall, anticipated the footman's answer to Bruce's
inquiry.

"Sir Chawles left yesterday for Bournemouth, sir. 'E was that hovercome
by the weather an' his trouble that 'e has gone for a few days' rest at
the seaside. If you called, sir, I was to tell you 'e would be glad to
see you there should you find it convenient to run down. And, sir,
you'll never guess who came 'ere this morning, as bold as brass."

"Jane Harding."

"Now, 'ow upon earth can you 'it upon things that way, sir? It was 'er,

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