“No.”

“I can foot your expenses, and lend you a year’s income in advance.  But it must be a clean cut; after you get out there your whereabouts must only be known to me.”

A long sigh answered him.

“You’re very good to me, Keith; you’ve always been very good.  I don’t know why.”

Keith answered drily

“Nor I. There’s a boat to the Argentine tomorrow.  You’re in luck; they’ve made an arrest.  It’s in the paper.”

“What?”

The cigarette end dropped, the thin pyjama’d figure writhed up and stood clutching at the bedrail.

“What?”

The disturbing thought flitted through Keith’s brain:  ’I was a fool.  He takes it queerly; what now?’

Laurence passed his hand over his forehead, and sat down on the bed.

“I hadn’t thought of that,” he said; “It does me!”

Keith stared.  In his relief that the arrested man was not Laurence, this had not occurred to him.  What folly!

“Why?” he said quickly; “an innocent man’s in no danger.  They always get the wrong man first.  It’s a piece of luck, that’s all.  It gives us time.”

How often had he not seen that expression on Larry’s face, wistful, questioning, as if trying to see the thing with his—­Keith’s-eyes, trying to submit to better judgment?  And he said, almost gently—­

“Now, look here, Larry; this is too serious to trifle with.  Don’t worry about that.  Leave it to me.  Just get ready to be off’.  I’ll take your berth and make arrangements.  Here’s some money for kit.  I can come round between five and six, and let you know.  Pull yourself together, man.  As soon as the girl’s joined you out there, you’d better get across to Chile, the further the better.  You must simply lose yourself:  I must go now, if I’m to get to the Bank before I go down to the courts.”  And looking very steadily at his brother, he added: 

“Come!  You’ve got to think of me in this matter as well as of yourself.  No playing fast and loose with the arrangements.  Understand?”

But still Larry gazed up at him with that wistful questioning, and not till he had repeated, “Understand?” did he receive “Yes” for answer.

Driving away, he thought:  ’Queer fellow!  I don’t know him, shall never know him!’ and at once began to concentrate on the practical arrangements.  At his bank he drew out L400; but waiting for the notes to be counted he suffered qualms.  A clumsy way of doing things!  If there had been more time!  The thought:  ‘Accessory after the fact!’ now infected everything.  Notes were traceable.  No other way of getting him away at once, though.  One must take lesser risks to avoid greater.  From the bank he drove to the office of the steamship line.  He had told Larry he would book his passage.  But that would not do!  He must only ask anonymously if there were accommodation.  Having discovered that there