She looked at him in astonishment.

"Why, whatever's wrong?" she asked anxiously.

"Nothing," said Bones. "Nothing," he added brokenly. "Oh, nothing,

dear young typewriting person."

She paused irresolutely, then picked up the envelope and cut open the

flap.

Remember that she knew nothing, except that Bones had made a big

purchase, and that she was perfectly confident--such was her sublime

faith in Augustus Tibbetts--that he would make a lot of money as a

result of that purchase.

Therefore the consternation on her face as she read its contents.

"Why," she stammered, "you've never done---- Whatever made you do

that?"

"Do what?" said Bones hollowly. "What made me do it? Greed, dear old

sister, just wicked, naughty greed."

"But I thought," she said, bewildered, "You were going to make so much

out of this deal?"

"Ha, ha," said Bones without mirth.

"But weren't you?" she asked.

"I don't think so," said Bones gently.

"Oh! So that was why you cancelled the contract?"

Hamilton jumped to his feet.

"Cancelled the contract?" he said incredulously.

"Cancelled the contract?" squeaked Bones. "What a naughty old

story-teller you are!"

"But you have," said the girl. "Here's a note from the Ministry,

regretting that you should have changed your mind and taken advantage

of Clause Seven. The contract was cancelled at four forty-nine."

Bones swallowed something.

"This is spiritualism," he said solemnly. "I'll never say a word

against jolly old Brigham Young after this!"

In the meantime two ladies who had arrived in Paris, somewhat weary and

bedraggled, were taking their morning coffee outside the Café de la

Paix.

"Anyway, my dear," said Clara viciously, in answer to her sister's

plaint, "we've given that young devil a bit of trouble. Perhaps they

won't renew the contract, and anyway, it'll take a bit of proving that

he did not sign that cancellation I handed in."

As a matter of fact, Bones never attempted to prove it.




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