Once more Mr. Benjamin Levy trod the pavement of Piccadilly and the Strand, and was welcomed back again amongst his set with acclamations and many noisy greetings. One more unit was added to the vast army of London youth who pass their time in the fascinating but ignominious occupation of aping the "man about town" in a very small way. And Benjamin Levy, strange to say, was happy, for the life suited him exactly. He had brains and money enough to be regarded, in a certain measure, as one of their leaders, and to be looked up to as a power amongst them, and it was a weakness of his disposition that he preferred this to being a nonentity of a higher type.

Certain of his particular cronies had organized a small supper at a middle-class restaurant on the previous night in honor of his return, and as a natural consequence Mr. Benjamin Levy walked down the Strand at about half-past ten on the following morning, on his way to the office, a little paler than usual, and with a suspicion of a "head." It would have suited him very much better to have remained in bed for an hour or two, and risen towards afternoon; but business was business, and it must be attended to. So he tried to banish the effects of the bad champagne imbibed on the previous night with a stiff glass of brandy and soda, and lighting a fresh cigarette, turned off the Strand and made his way to the office.

"Guv'nor in?" he inquired of the solitary clerk, a sharp-featured, Jewish-looking young man, who was sitting on a high stool with his hands in his pockets, apparently unburdened with stress of work.

The youth nodded, and jerked his head backwards.

"Something's up!" he remarked laconically; "he's on the rampage."

Mr. Benjamin passed on without remark, and entered the inner office. It was easy indeed to see that something had gone wrong. Mr. Levy was walking restlessly up and down, with a newspaper in his hand, and muttering to himself in a disturbed manner. At his son's entrance he stopped short, and looked at him angrily.

"Benjamin, my boy," he said, rustling the paper before his face, "you've been made a fool of. Scotland Yard have licked us!"

Mr. Benjamin yawned, and tilted his hat on the back of his head.

"What's up now, guv'nor?" he inquired.

His father laid the paper flat on the desk before him, and pointed to one of the paragraphs with trembling fingers.

"Read that! Read that!" he exclaimed.

His obedient son glanced at it, and pushed the paper away in contempt.

"Stale news," he remarked shortly.

Mr. Levy looked at him amazed.

"Maybe you knew all about it," he remarked a little sarcastically.

"May be I did," was the cool reply.

"And yet you have let them be beforehand with us!" Mr. Levy exclaimed angrily. "If this was to be done, why did we not do it?"

"Because we've got a better game to play," answered the junior partner of the firm, with a hardly restrained air of triumph.

Mr. Levy regarded his son with a look of astonishment, which speedily changed into one of admiration.

"Is this true, Benjamin?" he asked. "But—but——"

"But you don't understand," Benjamin interrupted impatiently. "Of course you don't. And you'll have to wait a bit for an explanation, too, for here's the very person I was expecting," he added, raising himself on his stool, and looking out of the window. "Now, father, just you sit quiet, and don't say a word," he went on quickly. "Leave it all to me; I'll pull the thing through."

Mr. Levy had only time to express by a pantomimic sign his entire confidence in his son's diplomacy before Miss Thurwell was announced. She was shown in at once.

"I had your telegram," she began hurriedly. "What does it mean? Can you do anything?"

Mr. Benjamin placed a chair for her, and took up his favorite position on the hearthrug.

"I hope so, Miss Thurwell," he said quietly. "First of all, of course you are aware that Mr. Maddison's arrest was as much of a surprise to us as to any one. We neither had any hand in it, nor should we have dreamed of taking any step of the sort."

"I thought it could not be you," she answered. "How do you think it came about?"

Mr. Levy, junior, shrugged his shoulders.

"Quite in the ordinary course," he answered. "So I should think. The police have never let the matter really drop, and I should imagine that he had been watched for some time. How it came to pass, however, it is not worth while discussing now. The question with you, I presume, is—can he be saved?"

"Yes, that is it," Helen answered quietly, but with deep intensity. "Can he be saved? Do you know anything? Can you help?"

Mr. Benjamin Levy cleared his throat, and appeared to reflect for a moment or two. Then he turned towards Helen, and commenced speaking earnestly.

"Look here, Miss Thurwell," he said, "your interest in this matter is, of course, a personal one. Mine, on the other hand, is naturally a business one. You understand that?"

She nodded.

"Yes, I understand that," she said.

"Let us put it on a business basis, then," he went on. "The question is, what will you give us to get Mr. Maddison off? That's putting it baldly; but we've no time to waste mincing matters."

"I will give you one—two thousand pounds, if you can do it," she said, her voice trembling with eagerness. "Will that be enough?"

"Two thousand five hundred—the five hundred for expenses," Mr. Benjamin said firmly. "Father, make out a paper, and Miss Thurwell will sign it."

"At once," she answered, drawing off her glove. "Mr. Levy, you have some hope! You know something. Tell me about it, please," she begged.

"Miss Thurwell," he said, "at present I can tell you no more than this. I really think that I shall be able in a short time to upset the whole case against Mr. Maddison. I can't tell you more at present. Let me have your address, and you shall hear from me."

She had signed her name to the document which Mr. Levy had drawn up, and she now wrote her address. Mr. Benjamin copied the latter into his pocket-book, and prepared to show his visitor out.

"I really don't think that you need be very anxious, Miss Thurwell," he said hopefully. "At present things look bad enough, but I think that when the time comes, I shall be able to throw a different light upon them."

"Thank you," she answered, dropping her veil. "You will let me know immediately you have definite news?"

"Immediately, Miss Thurwell. You may rely upon that. Good-morning!"

He closed the door after her, and, returning to his seat, scribbled something on a piece of paper. Then he rang the bell.

"Is Morrison about?" he asked the boy.

"Been in and gone. Round at the Golden Sun, if wanted."

"Take him this slip of paper," ordered Benjamin, "and tell him to keep a keen watch on the person whose name and address are there. Understand?"

The boy nodded, and withdrew. Then Mr. Benjamin looked across at his father.

"Well, guv'nor?" he remarked laconically.

"Benjamin," his fond parent replied with enthusiasm, "you are indeed a jewel of a son."

"I think I am," Benjamin replied modestly. "Come out and have a drink."