He betrayed little emotion. His countenance remained placid, but he said, "I have talent, good looks, and industry, and I want employment,--I desire to earn my living. I asked for a loan, but it was in despair, and I desired to replace my lost revolver that I might 'quit this ghastly dream called life' before another week's board was due. But under the spell of your words, 'a change came o'er the spirit of my dream,' and now I must live." "Must!" said I, "you assert this 'must' with such emphasis, perhaps you would tell me why you _must_ live? For my part I see no actual necessity for it--not the least." A cloud was on his brow. He remained silent and immovable as a statue. "Cheer up, old fellow," said I, "for if you desire to earn your living, I will secure a position for you." I knew who wanted a man, "talented, good-looking and industrious." I gave Leo Bergin a suit of my clothes--just a little soiled, I confess, for, as a fact, I never could obey that divine injunction regarding the giving my brother a coat, until it was a little soiled. I gave him a strong letter to a friend on Trafalgar Square, and Leo Bergin stepped into a good position. I was called to the Continent for a few months on important duty. Time went on and within a few weeks I received a brief note. "Trafalgar Square, "London. "To my Benefactor, "Yours of ---- received. Glad,--you deserve it. I am well. I think my employer is satisfied, but I am a little restless. "LEO." "Talent, good looks, and ambition, but a fool," said I, "and he will never get on." A few more weeks passed, and another note came from "Trafalgar Square, London." This was less brief than the other. It read:-- "Trafalgar Square, "London. "Dear Sir, "Leo Bergin is not at his desk. He has appropriated enough of my money to enable him to take a vacation, and--he left no address. Talent, good looks, and ambition Leo Bergin has, to some degree, but he is evidently a d---- villain. What did you know about this fellow, anyway? "D. J. FOLDER." There seemed no vagueness in this note, but I pondered. What did I know about him? Only that he was once born in Virginia, had lived in California, and had done newspaper work in New Zealand. Musingly, I said, "Perchance the villain lied." This solved the problem for the time, for it seemed more likely that a man should even lie, than go wrong with such a record.