secret in a place like the South Seas: only in London and Paris."

"M'Gibbon's been reading some dime-novel, I suppose," said one club man.

"He's been reading _Aurora Floyd_," remarked another.

"And what if I have?" cried M'Gibbon. "It's all true. Look at

the newspapers! It's just your confounded ignorance that sets you

snickering. I tell you, it's as much a trade as underwriting, and a

dashed sight more honest."

The sudden acrimony of these remarks called Loudon (who was a man of

peace) from his reserve. "It's rather singular," said he, "but I seem to

have practised about all these means of livelihood."

"Tit you effer vind a nokket?" inquired the inarticulate German,

eagerly.

"No. I have been most kinds of fool in my time," returned Loudon, "but

not the gold-digging variety. Every man has a sane spot somewhere."

"Well, then," suggested some one, "did you ever smuggle opium?"

"Yes, I did," said Loudon.

"Was there money in that?"

"All the way," responded Loudon.

"And perhaps you bought a wreck?" asked another.

"Yes, sir," said Loudon.

"How did that pan out?" pursued the questioner.

"Well, mine was a peculiar kind of wreck," replied Loudon. "I don't

know, on the whole, that I can recommend that branch of industry."

"Did she break up?" asked some one.

"I guess it was rather I that broke down," says Loudon. "Head not big

enough."

"Ever try the blackmail?" inquired Havens.

"Simple as you see me sitting here!" responded Dodd.

"Good business?"

"Well, I'm not a lucky man, you see," returned the stranger. "It ought

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