As the cab drove off, Mostyn laughed aloud. He was not really surprised. He had often had his suspicions of Charles in this particular direction, though he had never voiced them. Charles professed to be keenly interested in some East End Mission work, and it was understood that he stayed occasionally with his friend who conducted the Mission. Mostyn remembered that he had arranged to be absent that particular evening. Well--it all fell in with Mostyn's reflections. Charles was a weaker spirit, and he had yielded to temptation--yielded dishonourably, hiding his weakness behind a lie. Mostyn was not vindictive by nature, but he was human enough to be glad that Charles had recognised him. Charles--judging according to his own nature--would certainly conclude that his brother would retaliate upon him, and he would suffer accordingly. "Serve him right, too," was Mostyn's reflection. "Charles won't enjoy being found out--and by me. I hope his conscience will prick him--the sneak!" "Paper, captain? last extry speshul?" A small newsboy, keen-eyed and ragged, thrust his wares before Mostyn, who fumbled in his pocket and produced a coin. He did not really want a paper, but he thought the lad looked tired and hungry. He folded his purchase, thrust it away, and forgot all about it till he was back at the hotel and in the solitude of his own room. As he undressed he scanned the pages carelessly, his thoughts in reality far away. But suddenly an item of intelligence, under the stop-press news attracted his attention. He carried the paper under the electric light, and, with a gasp of dismay and genuine regret, perused the paragraph. "At a late hour to-night, intelligence has come to hand of a fatal accident to the well-known American financier and explorer, Mr. Anthony Royce. Particulars are still wanting, but Mr. Royce's death is reported to be due to a motor-car mishap." The paper dropped from Mostyn's hand. Anthony Royce, in whose company he had been that very afternoon, who had evinced so much interest in him for the sake of his dead and gone mother--who had instigated Mostyn's wild speech about winning a Derby--Anthony Royce had met with a sudden and tragic death! Whatever scheme may have been in the financier's mind, whatever the suggestion that he wished to propose to Mostyn, here was an end to it all. Anthony Royce had carried his plan with him to the grave. CHAPTER VI. MOSTYN IS PUT ON HIS METTLE. Some four or five days later, Mostyn found himself in the private office of Mr. Gilbert Chester, head partner in the well-known firm of Chester and Smithers, solicitors. He had received a mysterious letter from the firm, requesting him to attend that day upon a matter of the utmost importance to himself--a matter which would be explained in full when he visited the office.