tion." "I'll wager my reputation he's all right in a few days."
"I hope you're right," said I with a side glance at the Colonel, who, I could see, noticed that we were not quite in agreement. And we proceeded to talk of other matters. But later, when Elleston had gone, my host said to me:
"I believe you're a bit doubtful about 'Tavy,' aren't you, d'Escombe?"
"To tell you truth, Colonel, I am just a shade," I answered. "But there, it's not my business; only I can't help thinking that one cannot be too cautious in such a case. He's rather a delicate little chap, and, personally, I should not yet give a definite opinion."
"You're a good chap, d'Escombe," was the answer. "I tell you frankly I wish you were looking after him for me, but I can't give Elleston up—although I believe he's a bit out of date."
And so it went on for a week or two; the boy to my eye evidently sickening for typhoid, but to that of Elleston he appeared simply lazy, spoiled and lackadaisical.
The Colonel worried as days passed, and one night Elleston, having been badgered a good deal, said: "I'll bet my reputation, and
