like a house on fire.

His education advanced so rapidly that the next morning it was as much as he could do to speak without being offensive. He carefully laid his plans for the day as he rode to the City; he determined to put in a good morning's work about the office so that everybody might know swearing was his special vice, in case Old Joe made early inquiries; then he would spread the report that all his family used bad language, so that people might talk about it.

"Bit of luck I went to Billingsgate yesterday," he thought, as he jumped off the bus. "When I come into the five hundred I'll go down and find the chap who did me a good turn and give him a day out."

He sauntered into the office three-quarters of an hour late, and began to whistle a ribald tune as he took off his coat.

Somebody called out to him in a stage whisper. George took no notice, but swore at his hat when it dropped off the hook.

"Early," said the voice again. "Early!"

"Well, what the devil do you want?" said George, in a loud voice.

"S—sh!" cried the voice again, and George looked round to see a group of solemn-looking faces.

"Hallo!" he cried, looking from one to another, "what's the trouble?"

"S—sh!" cried Busby, lifting his hand. "Mr. Fairbrother's dead."

"What?" cried George, aghast. "Well, I'm hanged!" he said, looking round at the group. "If that isn't just my luck!"

For the second time, George Early was unable to tackle his morning work. He could only sit gloomily at his desk and use up the language he had learned overnight in reviling Fate for treating him so scandalously.

Then he began to go over the events of the interviews again, and soon his countenance cleared so considerably that he was able to discuss the lamentable decease of the firm's head without a pang. Not only did his spirits rise, but they became positively hilarious towards midday; so much so that he shocked all those—and they were many—who felt gravity to be the order of the moment.

"Where's Polly?" asked George, as the lunch-hour approached. He was directed to the head clerk's private office, and into this he went at once, closing the door behind him. Parrott was busy with a sheaf of correspondence, and he looked up to see George Early standing easily a few yards away.

"Got a few minutes to spare?" asked George, coming forward, and leaning on the desk.

The head clerk frowned; he resented familiarity.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"Oh, it's just a small matter," said George; "I want to borrow half a crown."

Parrott dropped the letters he was holding, and looked up in amazement.

"What?" he said faintly.

"Half a crown," said George; "I want to borrow one."

Parrott looked at George, and George looked at Parrott. Then Parrott put his hand slowly in his pocket, pulled out some coins, and put a half-crown on the edge of the desk.

George whipped it up, and put it in his pocket.

"Thanks, old chap," he said, and went out of the office whistling, while the head clerk sat staring at the half-open door like a man in a trance.

  Chapter III—George Early proves that Knowledge is Power

The firm of Fairbrother went on in the usual way after the loss of its head. There was some speculation as to who would succeed old Joseph Fairbrother, and a good deal of surprise when it turned out to be a daughter, a pleasant young lady of twenty-two or so, who arrived from Australia just before the funeral. If the old gentleman had timed his own death he could not have summoned his daughter with more precision. That the young lady was not steeped in grief at the loss of her parent must be put down to the fact, as confided to the head clerk, that she had lived in Australia the greater part of her life, and had scarcely known her father. More of her family history it is not necessary to tell here, except that, together with an aunt, she took up her residence at Brunswick Terrace, her father's comfortable West End residence.

Miss Ellen Fairbrother assumed command, and occupied the big office-chair much more frequently than "Old Joe" had done. There were no alterations in the staff, and no new rules. Miss Fairbrother was as quiet and inoffensive as her father, and seemed sensible of the fact that she could not improve on his work. She therefore allowed things to go as they had been going.

Parrott and the other important members of the firm consulted the new chief, and jogged along in the same way as before.

Nobody was different, except George Early. He alone had changed with the change of management. To be sure, three others had changed, but not in the same way. He was an ambitious young man, was George, and it seemed as though he had seen in this new state of affairs an opportunity for the advancement of no less a person than himself. That a casual observer might have assumed; a keen observer would have noticed that this change began at the moment when he left the private office with Parrott's half-crown in his pocket.

What the staff generally began to notice was that George had a great deal more confidence now than he had in the days of "Old Joe." He was less familiar with his fellow-clerks, and more chummy with his superiors. He never said "sir" to the head clerk, and the head clerk never found fault with anything he did. But as the clerks had a pretty easy time themselves, they did little more than merely notice these changes. Among those who were disturbed by George Early's tactics and who understood them better was Thomas Parrott.

For the first time in his life he had lent a man money without questioning his bona fides. The legacy compelled him to do it, and he did it. But no sooner had George got out of the office than the head clerk began to think over things, and to wonder if his nature would be able to stand the strain that it might be subjected to.

With the arrival of Miss Fairbrother, he withdrew to the small private office on the ground floor, and ventured out of it only when he was compelled. George made a note of this move, and on the whole quite approved of it; as things were about to shape themselves he could not have wished for anything better.

He walked in one morning, and closed the door carefully behind him. Parrott looked up with some uneasiness, but made no remark. He waited for his subordinate to speak; but as George Early seemed in no hurry to forego his inspection of the almanacks on the wall, he asked if Miss Fairbrother had arrived.

"Not yet," said George, without turning his head. "She doesn't hurry herself. No more would I if I had her job."

Parrott coughed sternly in reply to this free remark concerning the head of the firm.

"Do you want to see me, Early?" he asked, with an attempt at discipline.

"Oh yes," said George, as if obliged for the reminder; "I was just going to thank you for that half-crown I borrowed. By the way, I'm a bit short this week; have you got five shillings you could let me have a couple of days? Beastly nuisance being short."

Parrott turned white, and nerved himself to bear the shock.

"What do you mean, Early, by coming here to borrow money from me?" he said.

George put his hand over his mouth and coughed.

"Because I know you're the right sort," he said diplomatically. "I know you've got a heart, and you wouldn't refuse a man who is hard up."

"It'll get round the office," said Parrott, "and I shall have everybody borrowing from me."

"Why should they?" asked George, innocently.

"Of course