"Ha, he don't half like this chip of the old block coming to claim his own," he said to himself as he returned the bow with a broad smile. "Sorry to disturb you on a busy morning, sir. I've just remembered that this is our English mail day," he began, as the clerk began to gather his papers to retire. "Oh, as to that we're always pretty well up to time here," returned the other, motioning his visitor to the seat which the clerk had just vacated, and taking a chair opposite him. "Well, I suppose I'd better come to the point at once," began Mr. Rayner briskly. "The fact is I've taken this run to Calcutta to see my birthplace, and I thought I might use the opportunity to call on the present representative of Truelove Brothers. I believe you are now the senior partner of the firm?" "I am," said Mr. Fyson laconically. "Well, naturally sentimental reasons prompted me to wish to see the inside of the business house where my father was a partner." Mr. Fyson raised his eyebrows but made no response. "I speak of David Rayner. Of course you are aware that I am his son?" "There was never a David Rayner partner in this firm, but I believe a John Rayner once held some office here." "My uncle, of course." "Your uncle, was he? I never saw Mr. John Rayner. He had left before my time; but he held only a subordinate place in the firm. I could tell you what it was by looking up records." "It's of no account! Then, sir, if you were not in the firm at that time you may not be aware of the fact that my father, David Rayner, was a partner." Mr. Fyson shook his head negatively, and the young man continued in a louder voice: "Pray, why else does your firm supply me with an allowance?--has done so for years--since I was a child of four, sent at my father's death to England with my aunt, Mrs. John Rayner." "Your father's death!" repeated Mr. Fyson; and Alfred Rayner felt certain that his voice faltered when he uttered these words. "Ha, there's some villainy here--the old story I expect of an orphan defrauded of his rights," thought Rayner, but he resolved to be nothing if not practical, and bending forward with a facetious smile, he said in a tone of well-simulated frankness: "Well, I'll be open with you, Mr. Fyson. The fact is I came to see whether the firm can allow me a bigger share of the profits than I've been drawing. I'll even consent to let bygones be bygones if you'll deal straight with me at last. I'm a man now and a lawyer to boot, and you'll not make me believe that the only son of an old partner of the firm has not a right to a bigger slice of the profits of this prosperous house than the paltry sums I've been having." As he spoke he felt as if he were placing an ultimatum in the hands of a trapped man on whose face he now fixed his eyes, saying to himself: "He's fairly caught now, and if I can get gold enough to pull me through my present involvements I'll defer my claim for a time."