The clerk turned up the books. 'Paid!' he said, with decision. 'What's your game, sir, if I may ask you?'

Show me the signature.

'Paid!' Charles echoed, drawing back.

The clerk gazed across at him. 'Yes, Sir Charles,' he answered, in a somewhat severe tone. 'You must remember you drew a quarter's dividend from myself—last week—at this very counter.'

Charles stared at him fixedly. 'Show me the signature,' he said at last, in a slow, dazed fashion. I suspected mischief.

The clerk pushed the book across to him. Charles examined the name close.