WALTER. My father here?

c.o.kESON. [Always with a certain patronage as to a young man who might be doing better] Mr. James has been here since eleven o'clock.

WALTER. I've been in to see the pictures, at the Guildhall.

c.o.kESON. [Looking at him as though this were exactly what was to be expected] Have you now--ye--es. This lease of Boulter's--am I to send it to counsel?

WALTER. What does my father say?

c.o.kESON. 'Aven't bothered him.

WALTER. Well, we can't be too careful.

c.o.kESON. It's such a little thing--hardly worth the fees. I thought you'd do it yourself.

WALTER. Send it, please. I don't want the responsibility.

c.o.kESON. [With an indescribable air of compa.s.sion] Just as you like. This "right-of-way" case--we've got 'em on the deeds.

WALTER. I know; but the intention was obviously to exclude that bit of common ground.

c.o.kESON. We needn't worry about that. We're the right side of the law.

WALTER. I don't like it,

c.o.kESON. [With an indulgent smile] We shan't want to set ourselves up against the law. Your father wouldn't waste his time doing that.

As he speaks JAMES How comes in from the partners' room. He is a shortish man, with white side-whiskers, plentiful grey hair, shrewd eyes, and gold pince-nez.

JAMES. Morning, Walter.

WALTER. How are you, father?

c.o.kESON. [Looking down his nose at the papers in his hand as though deprecating their size] I'll just take Boulter's lease in to young Falder to draft the instructions. [He goes out into FALDER'S room.]

WALTER. About that right-of-way case?

JAMES. Oh, well, we must go forward there. I thought you told me yesterday the firm's balance was over four hundred.

WALTER. So it is.

JAMES. [Holding out the pa.s.s-book to his son] Three--five--one, no recent cheques. Just get me out the cheque-book.

WALTER goes to a cupboard, unlocks a drawer and produces a cheque-book.

JAMES. Tick the pounds in the counterfoils. Five, fifty-four, seven, five, twenty-eight, twenty, ninety, eleven, fifty-two, seventy-one. Tally?

WALTER. [Nodding] Can't understand. Made sure it was over four hundred.

JAMES. Give me the cheque-book. [He takes the check-book and cons the counterfoils] What's this ninety?

WALTER. Who drew it?

JAMES. You.

WALTER. [Taking the cheque-book] July 7th? That's the day I went down to look over the Trenton Estate--last Friday week; I came back on the Tuesday, you remember. But look here, father, it was nine I drew a cheque for. 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 pa.s.s-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 c.o.keson.

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

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

JAMES. [As c.o.kESON re-enters from FALDER'S room] We must ask him.

Just come here and carry your mind back a bit, c.o.keson. D'you remember cashing a cheque for Mr. Walter last Friday week--the day he went to Trenton?

c.o.kESON. Ye-es. Nine pounds.

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

c.o.kESON. 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 compa.s.sion] Here, let me see. You've got the wrong cheque.

He takes cheque-book and pa.s.s-book from WALTER.

WALTER. Afraid not.

c.o.kESON. [Having seen for himself] It's funny.

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

c.o.kESON. [Puzzled and upset] why this'd be a felony! No, no!

there's some mistake.

JAMES. I hope so.

c.o.kESON. 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 s.p.a.ce after your figures, Walter.

WALTER. [Vexed] Yes, I know--I was in such a tearing hurry that afternoon.

c.o.kESON. [Suddenly] This has upset me.

JAMES. The counterfoil altered too--very deliberate piece of swindling. What was Davis's ship?