in this lot there is £3,368, and they don't pay twice at the Casino."

The barrister thought for a moment, and then laughed heartily. "I remember now," he said; "I kept careful count of the series of seventeen, or eighteen, to be exact. On my account, as you were too dazed to notice anything, I put a maximum on the black. Your dream turned up trumps, as the series stopped and black won. Hence the odd £240."

"Then that is yours," said the other gravely. "I will take £1,128 to square all my debts, and we go shares in the balance, a thousand each, if you think that fair. If not I will gladly hand over the lot, after paying my debts, I mean."

Mensmore's seriousness impressed the barrister more than any other incident of that dramatic evening.

"You forget," he replied, "that I told you I had money in plenty for my own needs. You must keep every farthing except my own £8, which you do not now need. No. Please do not argue. I will consent to no other course. This turn of Fortune's wheel should provide you with sufficient capital to branch out earnestly in your career, whatever it be. I will ask my interest in a different manner."

"I can never repay you, in gratitude, at any rate. And there is another who will be thankful to you when she knows. Ask anything you like. Make any stipulation you please. I agree to it."

"It is a bargain. Sign this."

Bruce took a sheet of notepaper, bearing the crest of the Hotel du Cercle, dated it, and wrote: 
"I promise that, for the space of twelve months, I will not make a bet of any sort, or gamble at any game of chance."

When Mensmore read the document his face fell a little. "Won't you except pigeon-shooting?" he said. "I am sure to beat that Russian next time."

"I can allow no exceptions."

"But why limit me for twelve months?"

"Because if in that time you do not gain sense enough to stop risking your happiness, even your life, upon the turn of a card or the flight of a bird, the sooner thereafter you shoot yourself the less trouble you will bring upon those connected with you."

"You are a rum chap," murmured Mensmore, "and you put matters pretty straight, too. However, here goes. You don't bar me from entering for sweepstakes."

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