because some friends were giving him a farewell luncheon.     

       JAMES. [Puzzled] You accuse Davis, then?     

       FALDER. I don't know, sir—it's very funny.     

CONTENTS

         WALTER, who has come close to his father, says something to him in a low voice.       

       JAMES. Davis was not here again after that Saturday, was he?     

       COKESON. [Anxious to be of assistance to the young man, and seeing faint signs of their all being jolly once more] No, he sailed on the Monday.     

       JAMES. Was he, Falder?     

       FALDER. [Very faintly] No, sir.     

       JAMES. Very well, then, how do you account for the fact that this nought was added to the nine in the counterfoil on or after Tuesday?     

       COKESON. [Surprised] How's that?     

CONTENTS

         FALDER gives a sort of lurch; he tries to pull himself together, but he has gone all to pieces.       

       JAMES. [Very grimly] Out, I'm afraid, Cokeson. The cheque-book remained in Mr. Walter's pocket till he came back from Trenton on Tuesday morning. In the face of this, Falder, do you still deny that you altered both cheque and counterfoil?     

       FALDER. No, sir—no, Mr. How. I did it, sir; I did it.     

       COKESON. [Succumbing to his feelings] Dear, dear! what a thing to do!     

       FALDER. I wanted the money so badly, sir. I didn't know what I was doing.     

       COKESON. However such a thing could have come into your head!     

       FALDER. [Grasping at the words] I can't think, sir, really! It was just a minute of madness.     

       JAMES. A long minute, Falder. [Tapping the counterfoil] Four days at least.     

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