"And the rest is my business."

"Where do I come in?"

"You can cleave to the seven guineas--if you earn 'em."

"Seven pounds ten, Mr. Acting."

"Seven pound seven, Mr. Raffles. Your own proposal."

"Orl right," said Raffles, resignedly. "I think I know them ropes."

"Good!" said Acton. "Then you can scuttle now to Rotherhithe, or where the
deuce else you like. I'm off."

Acton wheeled out his bicycle and melted into the gathering dark, and his
jackal lurched off to the station and reached Rotherhithe to dream of his
seven guineas which he was going to get. Raffles felt sure of those seven
guineas.




CHAPTER XV

GRIM'S SUSPICIONS


As I said before, Jack Bourne, after the first bloom of his forbidden