But what of it?
Ah, yes, the burning candlestick--the paper--the paper! And again a gust of laughter drowned the fitful crackle of the fire.

There was gold at his hand--great, tempting quantities of it! "When the test comes, you'll ring true," came the crackle of Philip's voice from the fire.

"Mark that, old man, you'll ring true.

I tell you, I know." Well, Philip Poynter was his only friend.

But Philip was off somewhere, gone out of his life this many a day in a characteristic burst of quixotism.
Carl laughed and shuddered, for a mad instant he held the tempting yellow paper above the fire--and drew it back, stared at the charred candlestick and laughed again--but there was nothing of laughter in his eyes.