"It is true," said Hargreave, taking Jones' hand in his own. "Fifteen years ago I employed him to watch my affairs, and very well has he done so."
Presently, Hargreave, Jones, Florence and Jim were alone. That smile which had revealed to Florence her father's identity stole over his face again. He put his hand on Jim's shoulder and beckoned to Florence.
"Are you really anxious to marry this young man?"
Florence nodded.
"Well, then, do so. And go to Europe with him on your honeymoon; and as a wedding present to you both, for every dollar that he has I will add a hundred; and when you get tired of travel you will both come hack here to live. The Black Hundred has ceased to exist."
"And now," said Jones, shaking his shoulders.
"Well?" said Hargreave.
"My business is done. Still—" Jones paused.
"Go on," said Hargreave soberly.
"Well, the truth is, sir, I've grown used to you. And if you'll let me play the butler till the end I shall be most happy."