make an example of the next fellow caught gambling, and they say he
always keeps his word."

"How much do you owe?" asked Malcolm; and when Cedric in a low voice
mentioned the sum, Malcolm gave a whistle of dismay. No wonder he
was in despair.

"If I had not drunk too much, I should have stopped playing when I
saw I was losing," went on Cedric in a contrite tone; "but they
plied me with liquor, and I got reckless, and then I knew no more
till I found myself in bed with my clothes on."

Cedric was not shirking the truth certainly. The young prodigal
already realised the nature of the husks given to him; he was so low
and abject in his abasement that a word of rebuke would have seemed
cruel. One thing was certain, that matters were serious--gambling
and drunkenness were no light offences.

Malcolm had already been put into possession of the youth's domestic
history. His name was Cedric Templeton; his parents were dead, and
he was dependent on his half-sisters; his father had had heavy
losses, and Cedric's inheritance had been small. The first Mrs.
Templeton had brought her husband great wealth, but the money had
been settled on the daughters. Mr. Templeton's second wife was a
penniless girl. She had died two or three years after Cedric's
birth, and Dinah, the elder sister, had mothered him.

"You must put a good face on it and write to your sister," continued
Malcolm. "If you take my advice, Templeton, you will keep nothing
back--' the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth'--and