"It's not advice I want; it's money. I owe the man, in round numbers, four thousand five hundred pounds. I don't know where to turn to raise four hundred." "My dear Archie, you must excuse my saying, that's your affair. You would punt--although he gave you warning. The man lost heavily himself. This morning he's sent me round a cheque to settle." "He has, has he? He is an honest man. My God! what it is to have money!" "That's nonsense. If you were made of money you would not be justified in playing as you played last night." "That's right. Give it me. I deserve it all. I wonder what my father will think when he finds out, once more, what sort of son I am." "He'll think of the days of his own youth. When they are confronted with similar revelations, all our fathers do." "I doubt it. I don't think my father was ever such as I am. Certainly, he never bound himself to commit murder within a month. I suppose that you have not forgotten that the Honour of the Club is in my keeping." I had not. I had very clearly understood that it was that fact which had caused him to make the spectacle of himself which he had done. I stood contemplating the fire, twisting Mrs. Carruth's note between my fingers. He repeated his own words bitterly--"The Honour of the Club." "It's a pretty club." "My faith it is!" "Your only bantling." "Don't say that. It's Pendarvon's. You know it is. It's the biggest part of the debt I owe him. When I think of it, I feel like killing him." "Why don't you?" "It's against the rules. You stood by the rules, and so will I." "Who are you going to kill?" "For one thing, I shall kill my father. It will be as good as his death-blow when he hears of the sort of thing I am." "That sort of murder won't come within the scope of the definition. If it did, possibly seven men out of ten would be entitled to the diploma of the club. Archie, I'll make you a proposition. I'll give you the money to pay Pendarvon, and I'll cry quits for what you owe me, if you'll agree, since you must kill some one, to kill any person I may nominate." "Reggie!--what devil's game are you up to now?" "At present, none. At this moment I have not the faintest reason to wish myself rid of any living creature. But before the end of the month the situation may be altered. Is it a deal?" He hesitated; rose, and began to walk about the room. I watched him as he did so. I noticed how he clasped and unclasped his hands. He turned to me. "I agree." I sat down, then and there, and wrote him an open cheque for five thousand pounds. "The balance will enable you to rub along for a time. If you take my tip, you'll let Pendarvon have his coin at once--before leaving town." He took the cheque. Scanning the figures, he began to fold it up with nervous fingers. A smile--of a kind--wrinkled his lips.