silent house which I knew to contain treasure appealed to me in much the same way that a dangerous gold country might appeal to the prospector. I never stole from poor people, and there has never been a time when I would not have filled a position of trust, such as that of cashier in a savings bank, with scrupulous honesty. This was not because of any conscientous principle, but merely a sportsman-like instinct. My purse has always been open to the needy and I have never let a just debt go unpaid."
Ivan smiled. "I can readily believe you," he said. "In fact, you quite voice my own code of ethics."
"I am very sorry," said I, "that I cannot agree with you."
Ivan's thin, black eyebrows lifted and a tinge of colour showed in his olive cheeks.
"If what you say is true," I went on, "how was it that you could bring yourself to take advantage of a pal whose hands were tied by his given word and use him as a scapegoat for your own gain? Monsieur, theft is theft, of course, and in this wicked world of ours every man is for himself, and the Devil take the hindmost. That seems to be the motto that most people live by—from the pickpocket to the high financier. But as I see it, monsieur, it is a dd poor motto for people who pretend to have any code of honour of their own, even though that code is one not generally recognised."
Ivan's clear complexion grew swarthy. In the Under-World fierce passions lie closer to the surface
