Bones had been dealing in large sums of late, and had forgotten just the significance of four thousand pounds to a young officer. He was too much of a little gentleman to put his thoughts into words, but it came upon him like a flash that the money which Hamilton had invested in the Plover Light Car Company was every penny he possessed in the world, a little legacy he had received just before Bones had left the Coast, plus all his savings for years. "Ham," he said hollowly, "I am a jolly old rotter! Here I've been bluffing and swanking to you when I ought to have been thinking out a way of getting things right." Hamilton laughed. "I'm afraid you're not going to get things right, Bones," he said. "The only thing I did think was that you might possibly know something about this firm." At any other moment Bones would have claimed an extensive acquaintance with the firm and its working, but now he shook his head, and Hamilton sighed. "Sanders told me to come up and see you," he said. "Sanders has great faith in you, Bones." Bones went very red, coughed, picked up his long-plumed pen and put it down again. "At any rate," said Hamilton, "you know enough about the City to tell me this--is there any chance of my getting this money back?" Bones rose jerkily. "Ham," he said, and Hamilton sensed a tremendous sincerity in his voice, "that money's going to come back to you, or the name of Augustus Tibbetts goes down in the jolly old records as a failure." A minute later Captain Hamilton found himself hand-shook from the room. Here for Bones was a great occasion. With both elbows on the desk, and two hands searching his hair, he sat worrying out what he afterwards admitted was the most difficult problem that ever confronted him. After half an hour's hair-pulling he went slowly across his beautiful room and knocked discreetly on the door of the outer office. Miss Marguerite Whitland had long since grown weary of begging him to drop this practice. She found it a simple matter to say "Come in!" and Bones entered, closing the door behind him, and stood in a deferential attitude two paces from the closed door. "Young miss," he said quietly, "may I consult you?" "You may even consult me," she said as gravely. "It is a very curious problem, dear old Marguerite," said Bones in a low, hushed tone. "It concerns the future of my very dearest friend--the very dearest friend in all the world," he said emphatically, "of the male sex," he added hastily. "Of course, friendships between jolly old officers are on a different plane, if you understand me, to friendships between--I mean to say, dear old thing, I'm not being personal or drawing comparisons, because the feeling I have for you----" Here his eloquence ran dry. She knew him now well enough to be neither confused nor annoyed nor alarmed when Bones broke forth into an exposition of his private feelings. Very calmly she returned the conversation to the rails.