Hayhurst controlled his countenance with difficulty. In dealing with the Colonel he made it a practice to allow him to let off steam first. It gave a man a chance of second place, he used to say. "Then, why in hell are you back here? ... I've no further use for you." "I'm not asking you to use me," Hayhurst answered coolly. "I came by Lawless' orders, to give into your own hands the packet of letters which I've just received from the Bank." He put his hand inside his coat as he spoke, and withdrew a sealed packet from an inner pocket, which, in a matter-of-fact manner, he tendered the Colonel. The Colonel nearly collapsed at sight of it. The cigar dropped from his lips, his mouth fell helplessly open. "The--letters!" he gasped. He stretched forth an eager hand that shook with his excitement, and almost tore the packet from Hayhurst's grasp. "Sit down, my boy," he said... "Sit down." He turned the packet lovingly. "Good God! the letters--at last!" Breaking the seal with fingers that in their feverish eagerness could scarce perform their office, he glanced through the contents, counted the letters, and finally, going to a drawer and unlocking it, he took out a notebook to which he referred continually while he went through the packet again. "It's all right," he said... "They're all here." He snatched up a box of matches, and carrying the letters to the grate, thrust them between the bars and set light to them. Hayhurst watched with him while they burnt, dividing his attention between the flaming papers and the intent set face of the man who crouched before the hearth, watching, watching, while the letters that had cost much money and a man's life were swiftly reduced to ashes. When only the charred and blackened paper remained, Colonel Grey took the ashes up in his hands and crumbled them to powder. He drew a long breath of relief. "They've cost dear," he muttered,--"too dear... But they'll do no more harm." He rose and, turning, stared into the young man's eyes. "A moment since," he said, and his voice trembled with an emotion he could not altogether subdue, "it seemed to me that nothing mattered outside that," and he pointed to the ashes in the grate. "Now I'm back in the world again, and I want to know how you came to have them in your possession." "It's a fairly long story," Hayhurst said. "It's taken weeks to bring to a successful issue." The Colonel shook his head. "Don't you get into the habit of drinking before breakfast, my boy," he said. Tom Hayhurst laughed. His eye had certainly travelled towards a syphon and bottle of whisky that stood on the washstand. "You don't know what I've been through," he said. "Besides, I have breakfasted. And I've been strict teetotal practically ever since I've been working with Lawless. It was a condition he made in taking me on." The Colonel went to the washstand to cleanse his hands. "Pity to break it," he said. "But help yourself, if you've a mind to."