half of this as a guarantee. Well, he didn't earn it, so I kept the second half, see? How did you get yours?"
There was no reason at all why I should not tell him.
"I obtained some valuable information for a degraded creature some time ago," I replied. "Affecting to profess gratitude, he asked me as a personal favour to accept the trifling gift of a five-pound note, but on second thoughts he decided to keep half of it until he had verified the facts. In the end he became undignified, and burned the second half before my face."
Dunford laughed outrageously. The good humour of a boor is always trying.
"What have you made of it?" he said, when he had finished.
I had trimmed the edges until they fitted perfectly. A strip of stamp paper completed the work.
"It is nothing but a joke," I said, tossing it across to him, "but if one were among friends who could appreciate the jest, it might serve as a means for much harmless pleasantry."
"Oh, it's nothing but a joke, of course," he said, examining it; "but, really, I think that the joke might pass, Sissley."
I deprecated the suggestion with a waggish finger.
"Consider, Dunford," I said warningly. "We are in a foreign land where Bank of England notes, although reverenced by the natives almost as much as English gold, are comparatively uncommon objects of the seashore, and are, therefore, submitted to a closer scrutiny than they would be at home."
"Let the jockey ride the horse, my lad," he replied pompously. "Are you going to change it, or am I?"
I gave him the honour gracefully.
"You have the presence, Dunford," I admitted, "and that particular variety of fatness that never fails to
