COKESON. It's a nahsty, unpleasant little matter, Mr. Cowley. I'm quite ashamed to have to trouble you.     

       COWLEY. I remember the cheque quite well. [As if it were a liver] Seemed in perfect order.     

       COKESON. Sit down, won't you? I'm not a sensitive man, but a thing like this about the place—it's not nice. I like people to be open and jolly together.     

       COWLEY. Quite so.     

       COKESON. [Buttonholing him, and glancing toward the partners' room] Of course he's a young man. I've told him about it before now— leaving space after his figures, but he will do it.     

       COWLEY. I should remember the person's face—quite a youth.     

       COKESON. I don't think we shall be able to show him to you, as a matter of fact.     

CONTENTS

         JAMES and WALTER have come back from the partners' room.       

       JAMES. Good-morning, Mr. Cowley. You've seen my son and myself, you've seen Mr. Cokeson, and you've seen Sweedle, my office-boy. It was none of us, I take it.     

CONTENTS

         The cashier shakes his head with a smile.       

       JAMES. Be so good as to sit there. Cokeson, engage Mr. Cowley in conversation, will you?     

CONTENTS

         He goes toward FALDER'S room.       

       COKESON. Just a word, Mr. James.     

       JAMES. Well?     

       COKESON. You don't want to upset the young man in there, do you? He's a nervous young feller.     

       JAMES. This must be thoroughly cleared up, Cokeson, for the sake of Falder's name, to say nothing of yours.     

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