Foul Play [3]
very extraordinary conduct, sir," said Mr. Wardlaw. "Do you think I do business here, and at all hours?"
"Oh, no, sir. It is my own business. I am come to ask you a very serious question. I couldn't wait till morning with such a doubt on my mind."
"Well, sir, I repeat this is irregular and extraordinary; but as you are here, pray what is the matter?" He then dismissed the lingering butler with a look. Mr. Adams cast uneasy glances on young Wardlaw.
"Oh," said the elder, "you can speak before him. This is my partner; that is to say, he will be as soon as the balance-sheet can be prepared and the deed drawn. Wardlaw junior, this is Mr. Adams, a very respectable bill discounter."
The two men bowed to each other, and Arthur Wardlaw sat down motionless.
"Sir, did you draw a note of hand to-day?" inquired Adams of the elder merchant.
"I dare say I did. Did you discount one signed by me?"
"Yes, sir, we did."
"Well, sir, you have only to present it at maturity. Wardlaw & Son will provide for it, I dare say." This with the lofty nonchalance of a rich man who had never broken an engagement in his life.
"Ah, that I know they will if it is all right; but suppose it is not?"
"What d'ye mean?" asked Wardlaw, with some astonishment.
"Oh, nothing, sir! It bears your signature, that is good for twenty times the amount; and it is indorsed by your cashier. Only what makes me a little uneasy, your bills used to be always on your own forms, and so I told my partner; he discounted it. Gentlemen, I wish you would just look at it."
"Of course we will look at it. Show it Arthur first; his eyes are younger than mine."
Mr. Adams took out a large bill-book, extracted the note of hand, and passed it across the table to Wardlaw junior. He took it up with a sort of shiver, and bent his head very low over it; then handed it back in silence.
Adams took it to Wardlaw senior and laid it before him by the side of Arthur's Testamur.
The merchant inspected it with his glasses.
"The writing is mine, apparently."
"I am very glad of it," said the bill-broker, eagerly.
"Stop a bit," said Mr. Wardlaw. "Why, what is this? For two thousand pounds! and, as you say, not my form. I have signed no note for two thousand pounds this week. Dated yesterday. You have not cashed it, I hope?"
"I am sorry to say my partner has."
"Well, sir, not to keep you in suspense, the thing is not worth the stamp it is written on."
"Mr. Wardlaw!--Sir!--Good heavens! Then it is as I feared. It is a forgery."
"I should be puzzled to find any other name for it. You need not look so pale, Arthur. We can't help some clever scoundrel imitating our hands; and as for you, Adams, you ought to have been more cautious."
"But, sir, your cashier's name is Penfold," faltered the holder, clinging to a straw. "May he not have drawn--is the indorsement forged as well?"
Mr. Wardlaw examined the back of the bill, and looked puzzled. "No," said he. "My cashier's name is Michael Penfold, but this is indorsed 'Robert Penfold.' Do you hear, Arthur? Why, what is the matter with you? You look like a ghost. I say there is your tutor's name at the back of this forged note. That is very strange. Just look, and tell me who wrote these two words 'Robert Penfold'?"
Young Wardlaw took the document and tried to examine it calmly, but it shook visibly in his hand, and a cold moisture gathered on his brow. His pale eyes roved to and fro in a very remarkable way; and he was so long before he said anything that both the other persons present began to eye him with wonder.
At last he faltered out, "This 'Robert Penfold' seems to me very like his own handwriting. But then the rest of the writing is equally like yours, sir. I am sure Robert Penfold never did anything wrong. Mr. Adams, please oblige _me._ Let this go no further till I have seen him, and asked him whether he indorsed it."
"Now don't you be in a hurry," said the elder Wardlaw. "The first question is, who received the money?"
Mr. Adams replied that it was a respectable-looking man, a
"Oh, no, sir. It is my own business. I am come to ask you a very serious question. I couldn't wait till morning with such a doubt on my mind."
"Well, sir, I repeat this is irregular and extraordinary; but as you are here, pray what is the matter?" He then dismissed the lingering butler with a look. Mr. Adams cast uneasy glances on young Wardlaw.
"Oh," said the elder, "you can speak before him. This is my partner; that is to say, he will be as soon as the balance-sheet can be prepared and the deed drawn. Wardlaw junior, this is Mr. Adams, a very respectable bill discounter."
The two men bowed to each other, and Arthur Wardlaw sat down motionless.
"Sir, did you draw a note of hand to-day?" inquired Adams of the elder merchant.
"I dare say I did. Did you discount one signed by me?"
"Yes, sir, we did."
"Well, sir, you have only to present it at maturity. Wardlaw & Son will provide for it, I dare say." This with the lofty nonchalance of a rich man who had never broken an engagement in his life.
"Ah, that I know they will if it is all right; but suppose it is not?"
"What d'ye mean?" asked Wardlaw, with some astonishment.
"Oh, nothing, sir! It bears your signature, that is good for twenty times the amount; and it is indorsed by your cashier. Only what makes me a little uneasy, your bills used to be always on your own forms, and so I told my partner; he discounted it. Gentlemen, I wish you would just look at it."
"Of course we will look at it. Show it Arthur first; his eyes are younger than mine."
Mr. Adams took out a large bill-book, extracted the note of hand, and passed it across the table to Wardlaw junior. He took it up with a sort of shiver, and bent his head very low over it; then handed it back in silence.
Adams took it to Wardlaw senior and laid it before him by the side of Arthur's Testamur.
The merchant inspected it with his glasses.
"The writing is mine, apparently."
"I am very glad of it," said the bill-broker, eagerly.
"Stop a bit," said Mr. Wardlaw. "Why, what is this? For two thousand pounds! and, as you say, not my form. I have signed no note for two thousand pounds this week. Dated yesterday. You have not cashed it, I hope?"
"I am sorry to say my partner has."
"Well, sir, not to keep you in suspense, the thing is not worth the stamp it is written on."
"Mr. Wardlaw!--Sir!--Good heavens! Then it is as I feared. It is a forgery."
"I should be puzzled to find any other name for it. You need not look so pale, Arthur. We can't help some clever scoundrel imitating our hands; and as for you, Adams, you ought to have been more cautious."
"But, sir, your cashier's name is Penfold," faltered the holder, clinging to a straw. "May he not have drawn--is the indorsement forged as well?"
Mr. Wardlaw examined the back of the bill, and looked puzzled. "No," said he. "My cashier's name is Michael Penfold, but this is indorsed 'Robert Penfold.' Do you hear, Arthur? Why, what is the matter with you? You look like a ghost. I say there is your tutor's name at the back of this forged note. That is very strange. Just look, and tell me who wrote these two words 'Robert Penfold'?"
Young Wardlaw took the document and tried to examine it calmly, but it shook visibly in his hand, and a cold moisture gathered on his brow. His pale eyes roved to and fro in a very remarkable way; and he was so long before he said anything that both the other persons present began to eye him with wonder.
At last he faltered out, "This 'Robert Penfold' seems to me very like his own handwriting. But then the rest of the writing is equally like yours, sir. I am sure Robert Penfold never did anything wrong. Mr. Adams, please oblige _me._ Let this go no further till I have seen him, and asked him whether he indorsed it."
"Now don't you be in a hurry," said the elder Wardlaw. "The first question is, who received the money?"
Mr. Adams replied that it was a respectable-looking man, a