A chance acquaintanceship, the suggestion of an evening at cards, a visit to a theatre, with a bit of supper afterwards at an hotel, was, as might be expected, followed by a friendly game at the rooms of the elder of the two lads at Knightsbridge. Hoggan left at three o'clock that morning with one hundred and two pounds in his pocket in cash and notes, and four acceptances of one hundred pounds each, drawn by the elder of the two victims. Five hundred pounds for one evening's play was not a bad profit, yet Hoggan never dreamed that the London police were already upon his track. What his friend had suggested was the best way out of the difficulty. As he had so often done before he must once again burn his boats and clear. The outlook was far too risky. Yet he was filled with chagrin. In the circumstances, the acceptances were useless. "I shall want money," he remarked. "Well, boy, I guess I haven't any cash-money to spare just at the moment, as you know," replied his accomplice. "We've been hard hit lately. I'm sorry we came across on this side." "Our luck's out," Hoggan declared despondently, as he selected a cigarette from his case and lit it. "What about little Lady Michelcoombe? She ought to be good for a bit more." "I'll try, if you like, boy. But for Heaven's sake clear out of this infernal city, or you'll go to jail sure," urged Edward Patten, his friend. "Where shall I go, Ted? What's your advice?" "Get over to Calais or Ostend, or by the Hook into Holland. Then slip along to some quiet spot, and let me know where you are. Lie low until I send you some oof. You can go on for a week or so, can't you?" "For a fortnight." "Good. Meanwhile, I'll touch her ladyship for a bit more." "Yes. She's a perfect little gold-mine, isn't she?" "Quite. We've had about four thousand from her already, and we hope to get a bit more." "You worked the game splendidly, Ted," Hoggan declared. "What fools some women are." "And you acted the part of lover perfectly, too. That night when I caught you two together on the terrace at Monte Carlo--you remember? She was leaning over the balustrade, looking out upon the moonlit sea, and you were kissing her. Then I caught you at supper later, and found that you were staying at the hotel where she was staying. All very compromising for her, eh? When I called on her a week afterwards, and suggested that she could shut my mouth for a consideration, I saw in a moment that she was in deadly fear lest her husband should know. But I was unaware that her husband had no idea that she had been to Monte, but believed her to be staying with her sister near Edinburgh." "She's paid pretty dearly for flirting with me," remarked Silas P. Hoggan with a grin. "Just as one or two others have, boy. Say, do you recollect that ugly old widow in Venice? Je-hu! what a face! And didn't we make her cough up, too--six thousand!" "I'm rather sorry for the Michelcoombe woman," remarked Hoggan. "She's a decent little sort."