Five guineas to Smithers and my expenses. It just covered all but half a crown.     

       JAMES. [Gravely] Let's look at that ninety cheque. [He sorts the cheque out from the bundle in the pocket of the pass-book] Seems all right. There's no nine here. This is bad. Who cashed that nine-pound cheque?     

       WALTER. [Puzzled and pained] Let's see! I was finishing Mrs. Reddy's will—only just had time; yes—I gave it to Cokeson.     

       JAMES. Look at that 't' 'y': that yours?     

       WALTER. [After consideration] My y's curl back a little; this doesn't.     

       JAMES. [As COKESON re-enters from FALDER'S room] We must ask him. Just come here and carry your mind back a bit, Cokeson. D'you remember cashing a cheque for Mr. Walter last Friday week—the day he went to Trenton?     

       COKESON. Ye-es. Nine pounds.     

       JAMES. Look at this. [Handing him the cheque.]     

       COKESON. No! Nine pounds. My lunch was just coming in; and of course I       like it hot; I gave the cheque to Davis to run round to the bank. He brought it back, all gold—you remember, Mr. Walter, you wanted some silver to pay your cab. [With a certain contemptuous compassion] Here, let me see. You've got the wrong cheque.     

CONTENTS

         He takes cheque-book and pass-book from WALTER.       

       WALTER. Afraid not.     

       COKESON. [Having seen for himself] It's funny.     

       JAMES. You gave it to Davis, and Davis sailed for Australia on Monday. Looks black, Cokeson.     

       COKESON. [Puzzled and upset] why this'd be a felony! No, no! there's some mistake.     

       JAMES. I hope so.     

       COKESON. There's never been anything of that sort in the office the twenty-nine years I've been here.     

       JAMES. [Looking at cheque and counterfoil] This is a very clever bit of work; a warning to you not to leave space after your figures, 

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