once more, he took another long look at the fire. Then he gave a sigh, a smile, a shrug of the shoulders, and ended by putting on his hat and departing. 

 As soon as he was safely out of earshot, George Early stretched himself and walked thoughtfully into the middle of the big room. 

 Having arrived there, he gave voice to three words, audibly and distinctly: "Well, I'm hanged!" 

 Planting himself before the fire, he went musingly over the whole scene again. It was astounding. Three legacies of five hundred pounds a year each! George Early could scarcely realize the significance of it. 

 Presently, as he carefully thought over the matter, he began to smile, then to laugh; and when he finally returned to his office-stool, by way of a tour through the warehouse, he was bubbling over with mirth. 

  Chapter II—A Young Man in search of Bad Habits 

Chapter II

The first thing that struck George Early on his arrival at the office next morning, was the extreme seriousness of the three legatees. Gray looked so sober and miserable that George was surprised at it passing unnoticed. For once Busby sat quietly in his office-seat, instead of entertaining Gray with some fictional incident of the night before. And Parrott was too occupied with his thoughts to give black looks to the late comers. 

The

 "A nice lot they are to get £500 a year!" thought George. "I call it a sin. It's a dead waste of money!" 

 He strolled over to Gray's desk. "Morning, Mr. Gray," he said affably. 

 "Good morning," said Gray, in a voice hoarse with temperance. 

 "Back that little thing yesterday?" asked George, in a whisper. "You know—Flower-of-the-Field for the Sub.?" 

 "No," said Gray. 

 "I did it," whispered George—"ten to one. Bit o' luck, wasn't it?" 

 Gray assented, and George leaned over the desk to be out of hearing of Busby. He touched Gray on the hand with one forefinger. 

 "I've got a drop of Scotch in the desk," he said; "real old stuff. Going to have a nip?" 

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