"Fifteen to one," interposed Alfred eagerly; "and six to one about Xanthus. I only back Xanthus to save myself. One or other is certain to pull off the race." "Very well; Ill give you the odds myself." "You will! You are a trump, and no mistake. How can I thank you! Are you making a book on the race?" "Yes, and it will be better for you that I should take the bet rather than anybody else; for then," he added with a quiet chuckle, "the money will be safe." "Yes, that it will," said Alfred in all sincerity. "Fifteen to one to twenty-five pounds--that will be three hundred and seventy-five pounds if I win on Kingcraft, and ninety pounds, if Xanthus wins." He felt as if he had the larger sum already in his pocket, and the despair which filled him but a few minutes since was swallowed up in the false hope. "I will send you the vouchers to-morrow, and now I want _your_ voucher for this money that I am going to lend you." Always willing enough to give his signature, Alfred waited, pen in hand, while Mr. Sheldrake drew up the paper. It was to the effect that Alfred had borrowed of him forty pounds, with which he had backed two horses named for the City and Suburban Race, to be run at Epsom on Tuesday 23rd of April, and that he promised to pay back the money the Saturday after the race. Alfred read it carelessly, and remarked, as he signed it, "This is differently worded to any of the other things I have signed." "I have a purpose in drawing it up in this way," said Mr. Sheldrake, as he folded the paper and placed it in his pocket-book. "This document and the protested bills would be awkward things to take to your employers, Messrs. Tickle and Flint, in case you didn't pay, or in case I found that you were playing me false--or in case of other contingencies I need not mention just now. It might induce them to make an mediate examination of the vouchers and books in your care. You are cashier there, I believe, Alf. A tempting thing is the handling of other people's money, Alf--a devilish tempting thing--when one is in debt and wants to get rich too quick." "What do you mean?" cried Alfred, with such terror in his face and in his voice that Lizzie on the outside of the door was compelled to cling to the baluster for support. "For God's sake!----" "Don't agitate yourself, Alf. I am only putting an extreme case. I hope I may not be driven to such a course. It depends more on others than on yourself. And now I think our little conference is ended. Anything more to say? No? Well, you shall have your vouchers to-morrow." Lizzie glided down-stairs noiselessly, and when, a few moments afterwards, Mr. Sheldrake came down and shook hands with her, she accompanied him to the gate and wished him good-bye with a smile on her lips, although her hand was like ice in his grasp.