“By Jove,” he exclaimed, “I’ve given that little beast half-a-sovereign—­here, Tiny!”

But Tiny only backed further underneath the sofa, and no mere verbal invitation would induce him to stir.  So we adopted a more pressing plan, and coaxed him out by the scruff of his neck.

He came, an inch at a time, growling viciously, and holding Hollis’s half-sovereign tight between his teeth.  We tried sweet reasonableness at first.  We offered him a sixpence in exchange; he looked insulted, and evidently considered the proposal as tantamount to our calling him a fool.  We made it a shilling, then half-a-crown—­he seemed only bored by our persistence.

“I don’t think you’ll ever see this half-sovereign again, Hollis,” said Gadbut, laughing.  We all, with the exception of young Hollis, thought the affair a very good joke.  He, on the contrary, seemed annoyed, and, taking the dog from Gadbut, made an attempt to pull the coin out of its mouth.

Tiny, true to his life-long principle of never parting if he could possibly help it, held on like grim death, until, feeling that his little earnings were slowly but surely going from him, he made one final desperate snatch, and swallowed the money.  It stuck in his throat, and he began to choke.

Then we became seriously alarmed for the dog.  He was an amusing chap, and we did not want any accident to happen to him.  Hollis rushed into his room and procured a long pair of pincers, and the rest of us held the little miser while Hollis tried to relieve him of the cause of his suffering.

But poor Tiny did not understand our intentions.  He still thought we were seeking to rob him of his night’s takings, and resisted vehemently.  His struggles fixed the coin firmer, and, in spite of our efforts, he died—­one more victim, among many, to the fierce fever for gold.

* * * * *

I dreamt a very curious dream about riches once, that made a great impression upon me.  I thought that I and a friend—­a very dear friend—­were living together in a strange old house.  I don’t think anybody else dwelt in the house but just we two.  One day, wandering about this strange old rambling place, I discovered the hidden door of a secret room, and in this room were many iron-bound chests, and when I raised the heavy lids I saw that each chest was full of gold.

And, when I saw this, I stole out softly and closed the hidden door, and drew the worn tapestries in front of it again, and crept back along the dim corridor, looking behind me, fearfully.

And the friend that I had loved came towards me, and we walked together with our hands clasped.  But I hated him.

And all day long I kept beside him, or followed him unseen, lest by chance he should learn the secret of that hidden door; and at night I lay awake watching him.

But one night I sleep, and, when I open my eyes, he is no longer near me.  I run swiftly up the narrow stairs and along the silent corridor.  The tapestry is drawn aside, and the hidden door stands open, and in the room beyond the friend that I loved is kneeling before an open chest, and the glint of the gold is in my eyes.