“True, O King!” admitted Amber genially. “I know you’ve been convicted three or four times for various crimes.” “Sounds like a nursery rhyme,” said Amber admiringly; “proceed, my Lambaire.” “That is quite enough, I think, to freeze you out of decent society.” “More than enough--much more than enough,” confessed the unabashed young man, with a melancholy smile, “and what says my Whitey, eh? What says my pallid one?” “Look here, Amber,” began Whitey. “I once had occasion to inform you,” interrupted Amber severely, “that under no circumstances were you to take liberties with my name; I am Mister Amber to you, my Whitey.” “Mister or Master, you’re a hook----” said the other. “A what?” The horrified expression on Amber’s face momentarily deceived even so experienced a man as Whitey. “I mean you are a well-known thief,” he said. “That is better,” approved Amber, “the other is a coarse expression which a gentleman of parts should never permit himself to employ, my Boswell; and what else are we?” “That’s enough, I think,” said the man rudely. “Now that you mention the fact, I think that ‘enough’ is the word,” he looked round the group, from face to face, with the quizzical smile that was seldom absent. “More than enough,” he repeated. “We are detected, undone, fruster-ated, as a dear friend of mine would say.” He slowly unbuttoned his tight-fitting morning coat and thrust his hands into an inside pocket. With a great show of deliberation, he produced a gaudy pocket-book of red morocco. With its silver fittings, it was sufficiently striking to attract attention, even to those who had never seen it before. But there was one who knew it, and Lambaire made a quick step forward and snatched at it. “That is mine!” he cried; but Amber was too quick for him. “No, no, my Lambie,” he said, “there is a lady here; let us postpone our horseplay for another occasion.” “That is mine,” cried Lambaire angrily; “it was stolen the night you forced your way into the Whistlers. Mr. Sutton, I am going to make an example of this fellow. He came out of gaol last week, he goes back to-day; will you send for a policeman?” The boy hesitated. “Save you the trouble--save you the scandal--club raid and all that sort of thing,” said Amber easily. “Here is your portmanie--you will find the money intact.” He handed over the pocket-book with a pleasant little nod. “I have retained,” he went on, “partly as a reward for my honesty, partly as a souvenir of a pleasant occasion, one little fiver--commission--eh?” He held between his fingers a bank-note, and crackled it lovingly, and Cynthia, looking from one to the other in her bewilderment, saw Lambaire’s face go grey with fear. CHAPTER VI IN FLAIR COURT No word was spoken by Lambaire or Whitey as a taxi-cab carried them through the city to the big man’s office. They had taken a hurried and disjointed farewell of Sutton and had left immediately after Amber.