"It’s a curious fact," said the Duke, "that of all people and things in this wide world, there is no class so consistently insolvent as the organ class. There isn’t a single organ in England that can pay its way. It’s broke to the world from its infancy; its youth is a hand-to-mouth struggle, and it reaches its maturity up to the eyes in debt. It has benefit sermons and Sunday-school matinées, garden parties, bazaars and soirées, but nothing seems to put the poor old dear on his legs; he just goes wheezing on, and ends his miserable existence in the hands of the official receiver. What is this by the way?" "A soirée," said Hank moodily, "and will we help." The Duke sprang up. "Rather!" he said jubilantly "will we help? Why, this is the very opportunity I’ve been waiting for! I’ll sing a sentimental song, and you can say a little piece about a poor child dying in the snow." "Snow nothing," said Hank, "you can sing if you want, and I’ll go outside so that folk’s shan’t see I’m ashamed of you." He took a turn or two up and down the apartment, then came to an abrupt stop before the Duke. "Say," he said quickly, "Bill Slewer’s out." The Duke raised his eyebrows. "The amiable William?" he asked with mild astonishment, "not Bad Man Bill?" Hank nodded gravely. "I got a letter from Judge Morris. Bill had a pull in the state and the remainder of his sentence has been remitted by the new governor." "Well?" asked the Duke with a yawn. Hank was searching his pocket for a letter. He opened one and read— "... hope you are having a good time ... m—m your Nevada properties are booming ... (oh, here we are). By the way Big Bill Slewer’s loose, the man the Duke ran out of Tycer country and jailed for shooting Ed. Carter the foreman. "Bill says he is going gunning for Jukey—" "Ugh!" shuddered the Duke. "—and reckons to leave for Europe soon. Japhet in search of his pa will be a quaker picnic compared with Bill on the sleuth. Tell Jukey——" The Duke groaned. "Tell Jukey to watch out for his loving little friend Bill. Bill is going to have a big send off and a bad citizens’ committee has presented the hero with a silver plate Colt’s revolver and has passed a special resolution deprecating the artificial social barriers of an effete and degenerate aristocracy." The Duke smiled. "If Bill turns up in Brockley I’ll run the military gentleman loose on him," he announced calmly; "in the meantime let us address ourselves to the soirée." It was announced from the pulpit on the next Sunday that amongst the kind friends who has promised to help was "our neighbour the Duc de Montvillier" and the next morning Miss Alicia Terrill sought out the vicar and asked to be relieved of a certain promise she had made.