Rridor. As Adrien was about to ascend the stairs to his own apartment, he turned to Vermont, and said quietly: "Jasper, I should like that poor fellow to have a Christian burial in the private chapel;
and if there are relations, find them out----" He broke off abruptly. "There, you know better than I what to do, and how to do it. Oh! just one word more; of cou rse, I shall see that no notice is taken of his
delirious ravings. Good-night, old man." Jasper thanked him

and returned his "good-night" with sympathetic cordiality; then turned softly to his own apartment. Having
reached it, he gave himself up to a spasm of silent laughter.
"Christian burial!" he chuckled. "Oh, yes, he shall have Christian burial in the family vaults.
Lucky job for me the hound died, or the game would have been all up. As it is, that fool--that popinjay, almost guessed. Well, deny everything and demand proof, that's my line. After all, it's the very risks and chances that make the game so fascinating." He sat down and drew out a little note-book--only
a very ordinary penny note-book; for it was wonderful how mean this man could be when he had to expend his own money. Save clothes, which necessarily had to be of good material, though quiet in colour, he never failed to buy the cheapest article obtainable; unless, of
course, when, on the principle of "throwing a sprat to catch a herring,"
he stood to make a profit. In this little book there lay the records of fortunes. A fortune spent by Leroy--a fortune gained
by Jasper Vermont. He smiled to himself, as he closed one eye, and counted up the gains he had netted through this day's work. "Eig