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.
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,
Walter.
WALTER. [Vexed] Yes, I know--I was in such a tearing hurry that
afternoon.
COKESON. [Suddenly] This has upset me.
JAMES. The counterfoil altered too--very deliberate piece of
swindling. What was Davis's ship?
WALTER. 'City of Rangoon'.
JAMES. We ought to wire and have him arrested at Naples; he can't be
there yet.
COKESON. His poor young wife. I liked the young man.
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