# An Amiable Charlatan/Chapter 13

"THE SHORN LAMB"
I never remembered seeing Mr. Bundercombe look more cheerful than when, at his urgent summons, I left Eve in the drawing-room and made my way into the study. He was standing on the hearthrug, with the tails of his morning coat drooping over his arms and an expression on his face that I can only describe as cherubic. Seated on chairs, a yard or so away from him, were two visitors of whom at first glance I formed a most unfavorable opinion. One was a flashily dressed, middle-aged man, with fair mustache, puffy cheeks, and a superfluity of jewelry. The other I might at first have taken for an undertaker's mute. He had an exceedingly red nose, watery eyes, and was dressed in deep mourning.
"Paul," Mr. Bundercombe said, "let me introduce you to Captain Duncan Bannister and Mr. Cheape, his solicitor."
The two men rose and bowed in turn. I found it difficult to maintain a tolerant attitude, but I did my best.
"These two gentlemen," Mr. Bundercombe continued cheerfully, "have come round to blackmail me."
"Sir!" Captain Bannister exclaimed, with a great show of anger.
"Mr. Bundercombe!" the person called Mr. Cheape echoed.
They made rather a poor show of it, however. Mr. Bundercombe, wholly unperturbed by their righteous indignation, smiled still benignly upon them.
"Come, come!" he expostulated. "This is a business interview. Why mince words?"
Captain Bannister rose to his feet. He turned toward me.
"Mr. Bundercombe," he explained, "either willfully or otherwise, misinterprets the object of our coming. It is possible that his nationality may have something to do with it. I have always understood that the standard among Americans with regard to affairs of honor is scarcely so high as in this country."
"Mr. Bundercombe has a habit of taking a common-sense view of things," I remarked. "I cannot criticize his attitude, because I am ignorant of the particulars. Since he has sent for me, however, I presume that I am to be informed."
"Quite so—quite so!" Mr. Bundercombe murmured. "You go ahead, Captain Bannister. You tell your story."
"My story," Captain Bannister said, "is told in a very few words. I made the acquaintance of Mr. Bundercombe in the smoking room at the Milan some months ago. We met several times; and on one occasion I presented him to a friend of mine, the widow of a colonel in the Indian Army, Mrs. Delaporte."
At this stage, Mr. Bundercombe, who was quite irrepressible, winked at me slowly. I took no notice of him whatever.
"On the particular evening to which I refer," Captain Bannister continued, "it was suggested, by Mrs. Delaporte, I think, that we should go round to her rooms and play chemin de fer. There were five of us altogether—Mr. Bundercombe, Mrs. Delaporte, myself, a Mr. Dimsdale, and the Honorable Montague Pelham, a young gentleman of the best family. When we arrived at Mrs. Delaporte's rooms, however, it transpired that Mr. Bundercombe was wholly ignorant of chemin de fer, and the game was accordingly changed to poker.
"In the course of the game I was shocked to detect Mr. Bundercombe cheating. For Mrs. Delaporte's sake I conceived it best to try and hush up the matter entirely. I looked upon Mr. Bundercombe as a card sharper of the ordinary type, and I simply blamed myself for having introduced him to my friends. I accordingly made some excuse to terminate the party."
"Did any one else besides yourself," I inquired, "observe this alleged irregularity?"
"Both Mrs. Delaporte and Mr. Dimsdale distinctly saw the very flagrant piece of cheating that first attracted my attention," Captain Bannister declared. "They understood at once the position when I suggested the termination of the game. Our party broke up hurriedly. Since that day I have not seen Mr. Bundercombe."
I turned toward my prospective father-in-law. Mr. Bundercombe for the first time was looking a little annoyed.
"Do you mean to tell me," he said, addressing Captain Bannister, "that both that young jay Dimsdale and Mrs. Delaporte saw me pass up that ace?"
"Without a doubt," Captain Bannister assented, a little taken aback.
"Guess my fingers must be getting a bit clumsy," Mr. Bundercombe sighed. "Well, well! There the matter is."
"But, Mr. Bundercombe," I asked seriously, "what have you to say in reply to Captain Bannister's statement?"
"Don't seem to me there's much to be said," Mr. Bundercombe replied.
"But he accuses you of cheating!" I exclaimed.
"Oh, I cheated all right!" Mr. Bundercombe admitted readily.
Captain Bannister turned toward me triumphantly.
"After that confession from Mr. Bundercombe before witnesses," he said, "I do not imagine that our case will require very much more proof."
I was completely nonplussed—Mr. Bundercombe's confession was so ready, his demeanor so unalterably good-tempered. I went on to ask, however, what certainly seemed to me the most important question under the circumstances.
"If you were content, Captain Bannister," I inquired, "to let the matter drop a few months ago, why are you here now?"
"Aha!" Mr. Bundercombe exclaimed. "Put his finger on the crux of the whole affair straight off! Smart young fellow, my son-in-law that is to be! Now, then, Captain Bannister and Mr. Cheape, speak up like men and let us know the truth. You let me walk out of that flat, Captain Bannister, and were jolly glad to see the back of me. Why this visit with a legal adviser, and both of you with faces as long as fiddles?"
Captain Bannister ignored Mr. Bundercombe and addressed me.
"Mr. Bundercombe," he said, "calling himself, by the by, Mr. Parker, as an American card sharper was of no interest to us. We were simply ashamed and disgusted to think that we should have permitted such a person the entrée to our society. When we discovered, however, that, instead of being a professional card sharper," Captain Bannister continued, with emphasis, "Mr. Bundercombe enjoys a recognized position in society, and that he is reputed to be a man of great wealth, the affair assumes an altogether different complexion."
"Worth going for, ain't I?" Mr. Bundercombe chuckled.
"I feel sure, Mr. Walmsley," Captain Bannister continued, "that some portion of your sympathy, at any rate, as an English gentleman of social distinction, will be with us in this matter. The affair we were content to let drop against Mr. Parker, the adventurer, we feel it our duty to pursue against Mr. Bundercombe, the millionaire."
"We would save time," I remarked coldly, "if you were to put your demands into plain words. What is it you want or expect from Mr. Bundercombe?"
"Not what you appear to think, sir," Captain Bannister replied stiffly. "We require from Mr. Bundercombe a written confession and his resignation from the Sidney Club."
"The what club?" I asked dubiously.
"The Sidney Club," Captain Bannister repeated, with dignity. "The club in question may not be very large, but it is quite well known, and I had the misfortune to act as Mr. Bundercombe's sponsor there."
I glanced toward my prospective father-in-law. He nodded.
"They put me up for some sort of a pothouse," he admitted, "and I handed over a tenner, I think it was, for my subscription. Rotten little hole somewhere near the Haymarket! I've never been in since. I'll resign, with pleasure!"
"And write a confession of your misdemeanor, sir?" Captain Bannister persisted.
Mr. Bundercombe scratched his chin.
"I'll write an account of the whole affair," he remarked dryly.
Captain Bannister took up his hat.
"I regret," he declared, "that Mr. Bundercombe's attitude does not encourage a continuation of this conversation. We will not detain you further, gentlemen."
Mr. Cheape also rose. They moved toward the door.
"Much obliged to you for calling," Mr. Bundercombe said hospitably. "Drop in and have a little game of cards with me any afternoon you like. I am a bit out of practice, but I fancy I am still in your class."
Captain Bannister turned round suddenly. He replaced his hat upon the table and stood with folded arms.
"Sir," he announced, "I have changed my mind. You have insulted me. Five minutes ago I was prepared to treat you like a gentleman. I would have accepted your resignation from the Sidney Club and your written apology. Now I have changed my mind. You have slandered me, both by imputation and directly."
"How much?" Mr. Bundercombe asked cheerfully.
"Five thousand pounds!" Captain Bannister answered firmly.
"How much more if I call you a lying, card-sharping swindler?" Mr. Bundercombe demanded, with unabated good humor.
Captain Bannister looked dangerous, but he ignored the question.
"You have your terms, sir," he said. "Unless you are prepared to hand over the sum of five thousand pounds, my solicitor, Mr. Cheape here, will at once commence proceedings against you with reference to the affair in Mrs. Delaporte's flat. Remember, we have four witnesses to bring into court as to your having cheated—not including your son-in-law here, who heard your confession. For any countercharge you might be disposed to make," Captain Bannister concluded, "you have not a single scrap of evidence."
"Got me on toast, haven't they, Paul?" Mr. Bundercombe observed cheerfully. "Five thousand pounds is a lot of money, Captain Bannister," he added. "I'll pay your taxi fare back to wherever you came from. That's my best offer."
Captain Bannister turned toward the door.
"Come along, Mr. Cheape!" he said. "You know my address, sir. Talk this matter over with your—with Mr. Walmsley, if you please. If we hear nothing from you on Monday morning a writ will be issued."
"Before Monday," Mr. Bundercombe declared, in a hollow voice, "my body will be found in the Thames. Kick 'em out, Walmsley, and look after the coats in the hall!"
I infused a shade more civility into my leavetaking than Mr. Bundercombe's words invited. As soon as the door was closed behind the two men I returned to the study. Mr. Bundercombe was still standing upon the hearthrug, but the smile had faded from his lips. He looked at me a little anxiously.
"Rotten lot of thieves!" he remarked. "I told you they were here for blackmail."
"It's a beastly affair," I pointed out gloomily, "You see, they've nothing to lose, with a lawyer who's standing in with them, in taking the case into court; and you're just up for a couple of very good clubs. What did happen?"
"Simple as A B C!" Mr. Bundercombe explained. "You see these two fellows, Dimsdale and Pelham, really looked like mugs. I knew that Bannister was a wrong 'un from the first; and Mrs. Delaporte, of course, was in the thing. When they proposed a game of cards I chipped in, thinking to watch the fun. When we started playing Dimsdale and Pelham were the losers. Then they began to get at me. Bannister palmed a king into his hand and I palmed an ace. That seemed fair enough, eh?"
Mr. Bundercombe's expression as he looked at me was the expression of an appealing child. I bit my lip.
"A minute or two later I tumbled to the whole situation," he went on. "Dimsdale and Pelham weren't jays at all. It was a gang of four and they raked me in for the mug. After I'd tumbled to that I must confess I took some interest in the game. If they had given me another quarter of an hour I should have won every chip there was going. My boy," Mr. Bundercombe went on, a sudden grin transfiguring his expressive countenance, "it was worth a fortune to see their faces!
"I was a bit out of practice, but I guarantee I'd make a living with my fingers and a pack of cards anywhere yet and defy detection. I had 'em all guessing before long; and, Paul, you should have seen their faces when they tumbled to it! I tell you they bundled me out in double-quick time and I laughed all the way home. Four sharks to pitch upon me as a victim!"
He began to laugh again, but the sight of my grave face checked him. He at once assumed the appearance of a penitent.
"Where did you come across them again?" I asked.
"I met Mrs. Delaporte the other day," he said, "down at Ranelagh. We chatted a little while. I couldn't feel any ill-will against the woman—I'd enjoyed my evening so thoroughly. Then some people stopped and talked to me, and she found out who I was. Soon afterward she began to throw out hints of a willingness to marry again. Perhaps I wasn't very tactful. Anyway she seemed a little huffed when she left me—and here we are! Say, do you think those joshers can do anything?"
"It rather depends," I replied, "upon their own reputations. You'd better let me make a few inquiries. I'll have to get off now, Eve's waiting. I'll call round and see my solicitor later in the day."
"Shame to bother you," Mr. Bundercombe regretted. "So long!"
The affair Mr. Bundercombe had treated with his customary light-heartedness seemed likely to develop most unpleasantly. Within forty-eight hours he was the recipient of a writ from the firm of solicitors with which Mr. Cheape was connected; and, though inquiries went to prove that Captain Bannister, Mrs. Delaporte and their associates were certainly not people of the highest respectability, there was yet nothing definite against them. My solicitor, to whom I took Mr. Bundercombe, most regretfully advised him to settle out of court.
"The friends Mr. Bundercombe is now making and may make in later life," the lawyer remarked, "will certainly not appreciate the adventurous spirit that—er—induced him to make acquaintances among a certain class of people. Therefore, in the interests of my client, Mr. Walmsley, as well as your own, Mr. Bundercombe," he concluded, "I am afraid I must advise you, very much against my own inclinations, to settle this matter."
Mr. Bundercombe left the lawyer's office thoroughly depressed.
"It isn't the money!" he declared gloomily. "It's being bested by this little gang of thieves that irritates me!"
"I am sure," I told him, "that Mr. Wymans' advice is sound. If the case goes into court and comes up before the committee—even of a rotten club like the Sidney—I am afraid you would have to withdraw your membership from the other places; and you might find the affair continually cropping up and causing you annoyance."
Mr. Bundercombe heaved a mighty sigh.
"Well, we've got two days left," he said. "If nothing happens before then I'll pay up."
Mr. Bundercombe rang me up on the morning of the last day appointed for his decision.
"We've got a conference on, Paul," he announced dejectedly. "Will you come round here for me at a quarter to eleven?"
I assented, and arrived at the house in Prince's Gardens a few minutes before that time. Eve met me in the hall.
"Please tell me, dear," she begged, as she drew me into the morning room, "why daddy is so low-spirited!"
"It isn't anything serious," I assured her. "It's just a little trouble arising from one of his adventures. We shall get out of it all right."
"Poor daddy!" she exclaimed. "I am sure he has had no sleep for two nights. I heard him walking up and down his room."
"Well, it will all be over to-day," I promised. "After all, it only means a little money."
"Daddy does so hate to get the worst of anything," she sighed; "and I am afraid, from the looks of his face, that this time he's in a fix."
"I am afraid so, too," I agreed. "Never mind; we have done the best we can, and we are going to settle it up once and for all to-day. Perhaps he'll tell you about it afterward."
We heard a door slam and Mr. Bundercombe's voice.
"He is asking for you," Eve whispered. "Hurry along and come back as soon as you've got this business over."
I found Mr. Bundercombe exceedingly chastened, but in all other respects his usual self.
"We are calling for Mr. Wymans," he said, "in Lincoln's Inn Fields, and afterward we are going round to Mrs. Delaporte's flat. We are going to meet Bannister there and his lawyer."
"Why do we concern ourselves in the matter at all?" I asked as we drove off. "I don't see why we can't leave the lawyers to do this final settlement."
Mr. Bundercombe shook his head.
"You leave too much to lawyers in this country," he remarked. "We generally like to see the thing through ourselves over at home, even if we take a lawyer along. This is an unpleasant business, if you like; but there's no good in shirking it."
We called for Mr. Wymans and drove on to Mrs. Delaporte's flat. We were at once admitted into an overheated and overperfumed room and found Captain Bannister, Mrs. Delaporte, and Mr. Cheape awaiting us. Their demeanor betokened anxiety. Mrs. Delaporte alone made a little conversation; and, the habits of a lifetime asserting themselves, she made eyes at Mr. Bundercombe.
Mr. Bundercombe, however, conducted himself very much like the deacon of a chapel in the presence of his minister. His natural good humor seemed to have departed. His manners matched the unusual solemnity of his attire.
"Madam," he said, bowing to Mrs. Delaporte, "Mr. Cheape and Captain Bannister, I have suggested this conference because I believe in settling these affairs myself and not leaving everything to lawyers—no disrespect to present company. I have made an idiot of myself and I am ready to pay—a certain amount."
Mr. Cheape rose to his feet. He was sitting in front of a writing desk, with a clean sheet of paper in front of him, as though prepared to take notes of the proceedings.
"So that there may be no possible misunderstanding," he intervened, "my clients will take not a penny less than the five thousand pounds mentioned."
"And I," Mr. Bundercombe declared sadly but very firmly, "will not give a penny more than four thousand pounds."
Mr. Cheape shrugged his shoulders as though to intimate that the conference was at an end. Captain Bannister made a few remarks to the effect that if he had not been a moderate man, and willing to conduct the affair in a gentlemanly manner, he should have asked for ten thousand. Mrs. Delaporte alluded to five thousand pounds as though the amount represented the outcome of a day's shopping. It was astonishing how little they seemed to regard the value of money!
"Now," Mr. Bundercombe went on, "if I've brought you all together here on false pretenses, I am sorry. There's nothing to be done in that case but to say good morning and meet in the law court. But," he added, striking the back of a chair with his clenched fist and looking more like Napoleon than I had ever seen him, "I swear, by the word of Joseph H. Bundercombe, which has never yet been broken, that I will not hand over one cent more than four thousand pounds!"
The protests were this time a little weaker. Mr. Bundercombe sat with folded arms, with his eyes fixed upon the ceiling and an air of being altogether disinterested in the proceedings, while the three who comprised the other party whispered together.
Presently Mr. Cheape rose to his feet.
"Mr. Wymans," he began, punctiliously addressing the lawyer first, "and Mr. Bundercombe, my clients are only too anxious to end this unhappy matter. They feel that their demands have been most moderate, but at my advice they have consented to accept a reduction of five hundred pounds."
Mr. Bundercombe rose heavily to his feet.
"Mr. Wymans," he said, "and Paul, come along! I do not bargain. I wish you all good morning."
He turned toward the door and we followed him. It was already opened when we were called back. Captain Bannister and Mr. Cheape were whispering eagerly together. Mr. Cheape rose once more to his feet.
"In order to prove," he announced, "how entirely devoid my clients are of mercenary considerations, they agree, Mr. Bundercombe, to accept the sum of four thousand pounds."
Mr. Bundercombe put down his hat again. Then he drew a sheet of paper from his pocket.
"Condition number one, then," he observed, "is now agreed upon. We proceed to condition number two. Mrs. Delaporte, Captain Bannister, and Mr. Cheape," he went on earnestly, "I have been guilty of an indiscretion the proof of which is in your hands. Having decided to make London my home for a time, I desire once and for all to extinguish all possibility of this affair ever cropping up again in any shape or form."
Mr. Cheape rose to his feet.
"Sir," he said to Mr. Bundercombe, "my clients will give you their written undertaking that the affair shall be consigned to oblivion."
Mr. Bundercombe waved him down.
"My reasons for feeling so strongly on the matter," he continued, "will be appreciated by you, Captain Bannister, as a man of position and in society"—Captain Bannister bowed—"when I tell you that my future son-in- law, Mr. Walmsley, M. P., has proposed me for membership in two of the most exclusive clubs in London. This affair, therefore, must be killed beyond any manner of doubt. I am handing over to you four thousand pounds, which is a very considerable sum; but in return for it I desire that my future immunity be purchased by your signatures to this document."
Mr. Cheape rose at once to his feet.
"A document!" he observed. "Let me read it."
Mr. Bundercombe handed it over. Mr. Cheape read it out aloud:
"We, the undersigned, desire to apologize most sincerely to Mr. Joseph H. Bundercombe for any allegations we have made against him with regard to a certain episode that took place on March eighteenth, or thereabout, in the flat of Mrs. Delaporte. We admit that we were mistaken in the supposition which we certainly entertained at the time—that Mr. Bundercombe had been guilty of cheating—and we withdraw such allegations unreservedly, and tender our apologies."
"Ridiculous!" Captain Bannister exclaimed.
"Absurd!" Mrs. Delaporte echoed.
"I may add," Mr. Cheape joined in, "that I could not possibly recommend my clients to sign such a document."
Mr. Bundercombe took up his hat.
"When I started out this morning," he declared, "I felt convinced that this conference would come to nothing. I told Mr. Wymans here that I was prepared to settle, but on my own terms—and my own terms only. I don't want any undertaking not to molest me in the future. That isn't good enough. I want to be able to show a document such as you have there, which completely exculpates me from any charge that might at any time be brought. And without it," he added, once more bringing his fist down upon the back of the chair, "I do not part with one penny of my four thousand pounds!"
Mr. Cheape read out a document he himself had prepared, but Mr. Bundercombe waved it away.
"Come, Paul!" he said to me with a sigh. "Come, Mr. Wymans! I disclaim all responsibility for the failure of this conference. I have done my best. It cannot matter a snap of the fingers to our friends here in what form the document is couched that they give me in exchange for my four thousand pounds. Since they are so particular about a trifle, I have finished with them!"
He led the way toward the door and there was an appearance of finality about his tone and shoulders exceedingly convincing. We had reached the threshold and were, indeed, indulging in a little skirmish as to who should pass through the door first, when Mr. Cheape's resigned voice checked us.
"My clients," he announced slowly, "will sign your document, Mr. Bundercombe. They protest—they protest vigorously against its wording; but they are anxious to show you in how large-spirited and gentlemanly a manner they wish this affair to be concluded. Once more they yield."
Mr. Bundercombe, without any signs of exultation, returned to his former place, put down his hat upon the chair and drew a checkbook from his breast coat pocket.
"If you will give me a seat and a pen," he said, "I will write you a check for the amount."
Captain Bannister stared at the checkbook. He glanced at Mr. Cheape and Mr. Cheape very vigorously shook his head.
"I am sorry," he objected; "but my clients cannot think of accepting a check in settlement of this matter."
Mr. Bundercombe began to show symptoms of annoyance.
"Bless my soul!" he exclaimed. "Isn't the check of Joseph H. Bundercombe good enough for you?"
Mr. Cheape laid his hand soothingly upon Mr. Bundercombe's shoulder.
"It isn't that we doubt your check, sir," he pointed out; "but in a transaction of this sort it is best that no evidences of a lasting nature should exist. A check is not, as you know, legal tender, and a check my clients certainly could not accept."
Mr. Bundercombe folded up his checkbook and replaced it in his pocket.
"Then what are you going to do about it?" he asked.
"Where is your bank?" Mr. Cheape inquired.
"In Pall Mall," Mr. Bundercombe answered.
"Then I am afraid," Mr. Cheape decided, "there is nothing for it but to ask you to repair there and cash your own check."
Mr. Bundercombe rose to his feet.
"All right!" he agreed. "I suppose we had better finish the affair while we are about it. One of you had better come with me."
Captain Bannister promptly volunteered. He and I and Mr. Bundercombe descended the stairs and entered the car. We pulled up in a few minutes at the door of Mr. Bundercombe's bank.
"Will you come in with me?" Mr. Bundercombe invited, turning to Captain Bannister.
Captain Bannister excused himself.
"I will wait here with Mr. Walmsley," he said, "if you will allow me."
Mr. Bundercombe departed inside the bank and reappeared in the course of a few moments. His breast coat pocket was bulging. On our way back he drew out five packets of banknotes, which he counted carefully. Captain Bannister watched him out of the corner of his eye with a hungry expression. We were only absent from the flat altogether about a quarter of an hour, and the rest of the affair was promptly settled. The notes were counted by Mr. Cheape, the document signed by Captain Bannister and Mrs. Delaporte.
"I am sure," Captain Bannister declared, holding the notes in his left hand, "that no one can be more glad than Mrs. Delaporte and myself that this little affair has been concluded so amicably. If you will allow me, Mr. Bundercombe, to offer you a little refreshment——"
Mr. Bundercombe sighed.
"Well," he said, "I suppose it's all in the day's work for you people. I don't mind admitting, though, money wasn't so easily earned in my days that I can watch four thousand pounds go without feeling it. Thank you; that'll do nicely," he added, accepting the brandy-and-soda Captain Bannister handed him.
Mr. Wymans looked on with stern disapproval and I must say I sympathized with him. Mr. Bundercombe, however, not only drained the glass with relish but accepted the outstretched hand of Captain Bannister and afterward shook hands also with Mrs. Delaporte.
"If you are passing at any time——" she whispered in his ear.
I had had enough of it and I dragged Mr. Bundercombe away. We drove back to Prince's Gardens in somewhat ominous silence. Mr. Wymans would have taken his leave, but Mr. Bundercombe begged him to come into the library.
"One moment!" he insisted. "James," he said, addressing the butler, "Mr. Wymans will stay to lunch. One moment!"
Mr. Bundercombe went to the telephone. Mechanically he handed me the additional receiver. He asked for a number and presently received a reply.
"Say, is that Captain Bannister I am speaking to?" he said. "I thought I recognized the voice. This is Mr. Bundercombe. Yes, yes!—No, there's nothing we'd forgotten. I just rang you up, though, to give you a word of advice. You want to be just a leetle careful where you try to change those notes!"
"What do you mean, sir?" I heard Captain Bannister demand in startled accents. "What do you mean, Mr. Bundercombe?"
"Well," Mr. Bundercombe continued, "those notes are just about the cleverest things I ever came across; but, after all, they aren't exactly the genuine article. I got four thousand pounds' worth of them from a young fellow I was interested in, and I had them put in a safe at my bank so that no one should get into any trouble. It just occurred to me, since we began our little negotiations, that I saw a good way of making use of them. I had only four thousand pounds' worth; so I had to beat you down a bit. However, that'll be all right, captain, only, as I say, use them a bit carefully…. Jove! Ain't he making the telephone sing!" Mr. Bundercombe added, turning to me. "I guess I'll ring off!"
He put down the receiver. Once more the accustomed smile was creeping over his face. Mr. Wymans was looking dazed. The butler had entered the room with the cocktails.
"Say, Paul," Mr. Bundercombe expostulated, "you didn't really think I was parting with four thousand pounds to a sloppy gang like that, did you? I knew a young chap who was very clever at making those notes," he explained to Mr. Wymans. "I liked him and converted him; and I sent him over to the States, where he's got a good situation and is working honestly for his living. This was the remainder of his stock. I had 'em lying in the safe deposit of the bank, meaning some day to destroy 'em. You've got that apology all right?"
Mr. Wymans slowly smiled. He raised his glass to his lips.
"You are a very clever man, Mr. Bundercombe!" he said.