LITMIR.BIZ

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you ’Ell! – ’e says the strap broke. It’s always somebody else’s fault with ’is Lordship.”

      Daniel smiled. “A bit impatient like, is he?” he asked. He saw no point in explaining his identity.

      “Impatient!” laughed the corporal. “Twice already ’e’s sent for the whole shop. You’ll catch it, mate, I warn yer!”

      Daniel followed the direction indicated to him, and crossing the flaming compound, soon reached the entrance of his cousin’s rooms. Here a soldier-servant took in his name, and, quickly returning, ushered him through the inner doorway.

      Lord Barthampton had risen from his chair, and was standing in what appeared to be interested expectation of the meeting with his unknown relation. His tunic was unfastened, and his collarless shirt was open at the neck, revealing a pink, hairy chest. His heavy red face was damp with perspiration, and it was evident that he was feeling the effects of a large luncheon. He had a big lighted cigar in his hand, and on a table beside him there were glasses, a decanter, and a syphon. The Sporting Times and Referee lay on the floor at his feet.

      As Daniel appeared in the doorway his manner suddenly changed, and his bloodshot blue eyes opened wide under frowning eyebrows. He slowly replaced the cigar in his mouth and thrust his hands into his pockets.

      “What d’you want?” he muttered.

      “Well, Cousin Charles …” said Daniel. He held out his hand, but Lord Barthampton made no responding movement.

      “So you are Daniel, are you!” he ejaculated. “I might have guessed it. I’d heard that you were a sort of prize-fighting vagabond. What d’you want to see me for?”

      “First of all,” the visitor replied, “to say I’m sorry about last night. I didn’t know till afterwards who you were.”

      His cousin grunted like a pig. “You took an unfair advantage of me,” he said. “You could see I was a bit tight. In England we don’t think it’s sporting to knock a man down when he’s full of whiskey; but you Americans don’t seem to know…”

      Daniel smiled. “I’m English too, you know.”

      “Yes, in a way I suppose you are,” he grumbled, dropping into an arm-chair. “We’re both Lanes; but your mother was a Yankee, and you’ve spent half your life over there. You had no right to hit me.”

      “I didn’t hit you,” said Daniel, with a broad smile. “I only shook you; and I’ll do it again if you don’t offer me a chair.”

      Charles Barthampton stared at him, and, taking the cigar out of his mouth, blew a cloud of smoke from between his lips. “There’s a chair behind you,” he replied, rudely. “You can sit in it if it doesn’t make you stay too long.”

      Daniel fetched the chair, and, placing it immediately in front of his cousin, sat himself down. “This is a bad start, cousin,” he said. “I’ve told you I’m sorry; but you know quite well it was your own fault.”

      “I tell you I was tight,” he answered petulantly. “And besides, what right had you to be with Lizette? She belongs to the regiment.”

      “She was good enough to have supper with me,” Daniel answered, and there was an unmistakable menace in his voice. “Please leave her out of the question.”

      Lord Barthampton laughed. “I suppose you feel a bit struck on her this morning.”

      Daniel suddenly rose to his feet; and his cousin, startled by the look in his face, sprang from his chair, and placed his hand on the bell on the wall behind him.

      “Sit down, Cousin Daniel,” he sneered, “or I’ll ring the bell and have you thrown out by the guard.”

      Daniel shrugged his shoulders, and resumed his seat. “There’s nothing to be timid about,” he replied, “if you’re careful what you say. I tell you again I apologize for my part in last night’s affair: I’m always ashamed of myself when I’m rough with anybody. I’ve come here to talk about family business, so you’d better sit down too.”

      He pulled out his pipe, and began to fill it, while Charles Barthampton, with an awkward air of unconcern, sat heavily down once more.

      “Family business, is it?” he growled. “I suppose you’re going to claim some money or something. Well, your name was mentioned in my father’s will, if you want to know, but he didn’t leave you anything.”

      “He sent me a copy of the will last year, just before he died,” Daniel answered, unmoved.

      His cousin glanced quickly at him. “Did he really?” he remarked. “That was odd, as he left you nothing; but he was a bit strange always. I don’t see what it had got to do with you, though. Your father, his brother, died years ago, didn’t he? And your mother hardly knew him.”

      Daniel lit his pipe. “You forget,” he said, “that your father and I had a couple of months shooting together on the Peace River, three or four years ago, while you were in India. We became good friends, and I saw him in England afterwards.”

      Lord Barthampton nodded, and was silent. He puffed viciously at his cigar; then, as though deciding that there might be some call for diplomacy, he pointed to the table. “Have a drink?” he said.

      “No, thanks,” his visitor answered.

      “Well, what the Hell do you want?” He was becoming exasperated.

      Daniel looked gravely at him. “I want you to turn over a new leaf,” he said. “Now that you’ve inherited the property, and now that you’re head of the family, you’ve got a lot of responsibilities.”

      “That’s my own business, not yours,” muttered his cousin, again grunting loudly.

      “No, it’s my affair, too,” Daniel answered. “You’re not married; you have no son. As things stand at present I’m the next of kin. I’m your heir.”

      The other uttered a short laugh. “Oh, I see,” he scoffed. “You’re banking on my drinking myself to death, or something, before I can become a proud father, eh? You wanted to have a look at me: and I suppose you’re disappointed to find I’m in the pink. You’d rather fancy yourself as Daniel Lane, Earl of Barthampton.” He made a gesture of contempt. “A pretty sight you’d make in the House of Lords! I wonder they even let you into the barracks!”

      Daniel laughed with genuine amusement. “They thought I’d come to mend your camera.”

      Lord Barthampton suddenly leapt to his feet. “God!” he exclaimed. “Where the Hell is that man?” He rang the bell furiously. “Why the blasted Hell don’t they come when I send for them?”

      “Are you in a hurry to have it mended?” asked Daniel mildly.

      “Of course I am!” snapped his cousin.

      “Then why didn’t you take it round to the shop, yourself, instead of going into tantrums like a baby?”

      His Lordship stood stock still, and stared at Daniel, like an infuriated bull. “I wish to God I knew why you were sitting here in my room!” he roared. “Why don’t you go?”

      There was a knock at the door.

      “Come in!” he snorted.

      The knock was repeated.

      “Come in, confound you!” he shouted, and thereat a soldier entered. “Are you deaf? Send somebody over to the camera place at once, and tell them that if they don’t attend to my orders I’ll break every damned thing in the shop. D’you hear?”

      “In other words,” said Daniel, turning to the soldier, “say Lord Barthampton presents his compliments, and would be very grateful if they would hustle a bit.”

      His cousin turned on him as the soldier, prompted by natural tact, speedily left the room. “Will you kindly mind your own business!” he snapped.

      “How Lord Barthampton behaves is my business,” Daniel answered sternly. “Now,

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