“There’s my mother,” said Robert; “she’ll give me whatever I want.” “She’s a brick of an old woman; but I don’t suppose, eh, Bob? she’s what you would call a millionaire.” Lew gave his friend a keen glance under his eyelids. His eyes were keen and bright, always alive and watchful like the eyes of a wild animal; whereas Robbie’s were a little heavy and veiled, rather furtive than watchful, perhaps afraid of approaching danger, but not keeping a keen look-out for it, like the other’s, on every side. “No,” said Robert, with a curious brag and pride, “not a millionaire--just what you see--no splendour, but everything comfortable. She must have saved a lot of money while I was away. A woman has no expenses. And I’m all she has; she’ll give me whatever I want.” “You are all she has, and she’ll give you--whatever you want.” “Yes; is there anything wonderful in that? You say it in a tone----” “We’re not on such terms as to question each other’s tones, are we?” said Lew. “Though I’m idle, as Janet says, I have always an eye to business, Bob. Never mind your mother; isn’t there some old buffer in the country that could spare us some of his gold? The nights are pretty dark now, though they don’t last long--eh, Bob?” There was more a great deal than was open to a listening ear in the tone of the question. And Robert Ogilvy grew red to his hair. “For God’s sake,” he cried, “not a word of that here--in my own place, Lew! If there’s anything in the world you care for----” “Is there anything in the world I care for?” said the other. “Not very much, except myself. I’ve always had a robust regard for that person. Well--I’m not fond of doing nothing, though your folks think me a lazy dog. Janet’s eyes are well open, but she’s not so clever as she thinks. I’m beginning to get very tired, I can tell you, of this do-nothing life. I’d like to put a little money in my pocket, Rob. I’d like to feel a little excitement again. We’ll take root like potatoes if we go on like this.” Mr Lewis’s talk was sprinkled with words of a more energetic description, but they waste a good deal of type and a great many marks of admiration. The instructed can fill them in for themselves. “I don’t think we could be much better off,” said Robbie, with a certain offence; “plenty of grub, and good of its kind--you said that yourself--and a safe place to lie low in. I thought that was what you wanted most.” “So it was, if a man happened always to be in the same mind. I want a little excitement, Bob. I want a good beast under me, and the wind in my face. I want a little fun--which perhaps wouldn’t be just fun, don’t you know, for the men we might have the pleasure of meeting----” “If those detective fellows get on the trail you’ll have fun enough,” Robert said.