"It goes back, in secret gifts, as fast as it is earned, Mr.Narkom.

Don't you see the answers, the acknowledgments, in the 'Personal' columns of the papers now and again?
Wheresoever I robbed in those old days, I am repaying in these.

When the score is wiped off, when the last robbery is paid for, my hand will be clean, and--I can offer it; never before." "Cleek! My dear fellow! What a man! What a _man_! Oh, more than ever am I certain _now_ that old Sir Horace Wyvern was right that night when he said that you were a gentleman.

Tell me--I'll respect it--tell me, for God's sake, man, who are you?
_What_ are you, dear friend ?" "Cleek," he made reply.

"Just Cleek! The rest is my secret and--God's! We've never spoken of the past since _that_ night, Mr.Narkom, and, with your kind permission, we never will speak of it again.