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culated to impress strangers with the belief that here was a man with whom it might be dangerous to take liberties, Those who knew him well needed no such outward indication to be similarly convinced.

Geoffrey found himself liking his employer better every day, and whether or no this good feeling was reciprocated, it is certain that the Major appeared to take pleasure in the young man’s society, dropping in at the store at other than his accustomed times, and allowing himself to be defeated at the chess table with perfect placidity. Sandy could have assured Geoffrey that there was no more certain sign of his father’s goodwill than that.

One morning, a few weeks after the event recorded in the last chapter, Major Milward entered the office at the customary time. Usually the cigar between his teeth was the only thing he carried, but on this morning he had what appeared to be an old account book under his arm, which he placed beside him as he took his seat at the writing-table. It was mail day, and a little packet of correspondence lay waiting attention.

‘Anything fresh?’ the Major asked musingly, as he glanced through the first letter.

‘There is one note from a man called Wadham, who has a kauri bush for sale.’

‘Ah!’ said the Major eagerly; ‘what’s he say?’

Geoffrey found the letter and laid it in front of his employer.

‘“Sorry to have to let go . . . kauri getting scarcer . . . twice the money two or three years’ time,”’ read the Major in snatches. ‘H’m! Hope so. “About three-quarters million feet . . . easily