He came in just as I had finished dressing--looking as if he had been spending the time since I had seen him last in trying to find that five and thirty thousand pounds. His eyes were bloodshot. His face was white and drawn. He was a vivid illustration of the night it must have been. Vouchsafing no greeting, sitting down without a word, leaning on the handle of his stick, he stared at nothing with his bloodshot eyes. I opened the ball. "Are you coming down with me to Torquay by the three o'clock?" Silence. "I suppose you haven't forgotten your engagement with Jardine?" "I can't keep it. For a sufficient reason." "What's that? Feel seedy? The run down will do you good. You'll feel as fit as a fiddler by the time you get to Cockington." "That's not the reason." "What is it then? I suppose you're not going to throw them over--they'll want your gun." "The reason I'm not going is because I have not sufficient money with which to pay the fare." I stared. I had not supposed the thing was so bad as that. Yet it was characteristic. In one of his moods he was just the man to play for his boots, and not miss them till he wanted to put them on. "I suppose you're joking." By way of reply he relinquished his stick, stood up, and solemnly turned out his pockets one by one. He held some coins out towards me in his hand. "Six-and-ninepence. That represents my cash in hand. Of course, there is always the pawnshop." "Stuff. You can always borrow." "I am glad to hear it. From whom? Give me the gentleman's name. He is not known to me, I'll swear. I must be unknown to him, or he would never lend." "Can't you do anything on a bit of stiff?" "I repeat--give me the gentleman's name." "If it comes to that, I'll lend you a hundred or so to go on with myself, as you very well know." "I owe you five and thirty thousand pounds already." "Look here, Archie, I don't want to make myself disagreeable, as you believe, but when you like you can be about as much of an idiot as they make them. Your proceedings last night would have been more appropriate at a symposium in the county asylum. As to what you say you owe me, we'll postpone the settling day, with your permission, to when your ship comes home." "The arrangement was that all paper was to be taken up within a week." "Rubbish. You and I know what those sort of arrangements are worth." "Are you suggesting that I'm a thief?" "I'm doing nothing of the sort. I'm asserting that you're a fool." "Reggie!" "Archie?" He glared at me so that, for a moment, I thought that he was going to give further proof of the truth of my words upon the spot. But he changed his mind. He dropped on to a chair with a sort of gasp. "What you say is correct enough. I have no right to cavil. I thank you for the word." He sat silent. Then he added, "But it's not only you I owe, I owe Pendarvon." "If you take my advice, you'll pay Pendarvon."