our cruise. Besides, Honest John Driver's check for kidnapping him had been honored; the Children's Hospital had another £3,500, and we had lost our philanthropic interest in him. We were, therefore, cold to him; Angel relapsed to her bare civility; I lost in heartiness; Chelubai no longer addressed him in affectionate American, and Bottiger no longer cheerily jarred him by slapping him on the back. The two last had grudged him Angel's compassionate smiles, and now they were even colder to him than she or I. We did not, indeed, break with him utterly, for we bore in mind that he was a Director of the Quorley Granite Company, and might yet again be useful to us.
He was grieved, as he deserved to be, by the change, chiefly, doubtless, by Angel's coldness. He endured in silence for a time, and then he came to me and asked what he had done to change us.
I eyed him coldly, and said, "We do not like the way you treated your old friend, Honest John Driver. He has told us how you sold him out over Golden Banks."
His large, gazelle-like eyes opened wide in utter surprise. "Why, that's b-b-business!" he stammered. "What's it got to do with us?"
"Driver was your friend, and you betrayed him," I said coldly.
He wriggled uncomfortably and looked unhappy; then he plucked up spirit and said, "The
