“DEAR SIR,--We notice that your account to-day stands 119,000 pounds overdrawn, against which we hold as collateral security shares in the Bekwando Land Company to the value of 150,000 pounds. As we have received certain very disquieting information concerning the value of these shares, we must ask you to adjust the account before closing hours to-day, or we shall be compelled to place the shares upon the market. “Yours truly, “A. SINCLAIR, General Manager.” Trent tore the letter into atoms, but he never quailed. Telegraph and telephone worked his will, he saw all callers, a cigar in his mouth and flower in his buttonhole, perfectly at his ease, sanguine and confident. A few minutes before closing time he strolled into the bank and no one noticed a great bead of perspiration which stood out upon his forehead. He made out a credit slip for 119,000 pounds, and, passing it across the counter with a roll of notes and cheques, asked for his shares. They sent for the manager. Trent was ushered with much ceremony into his private room. The manager was flushed and nervous. “I am afraid you must have misunderstood my note, Mr. Trent,” he stammered. But Trent, remembering all that he had gone through to raise the money, stopped him short. “This is not a friendly call, Mr. Sinclair,” he said, “but simply a matter of business. I wish to clear my account with you to the last halfpenny, and I will take my shares away with me. I have paid in the amount I owe. Let one of your clerks make out the interest account.” The manager rang the bell for the key of the security safe. He opened it and took out the shares with fingers which trembled a good deal. “Did I understand you, Mr. Trent, that you desired to absolutely close the account?” he asked. “Most decidedly,” Trent answered. “We shall be very sorry to lose you.” “The sorrow will be all on your side, then,” Trent answered grimly. “You have done your best to ruin me, you and that blackguard Da Souza, who brought me here. If you had succeeded in lumping those shares upon the market to-day or to-morrow, you know very well what the result would have been. I don't know whose game you have been playing, but I can guess!” “I can assure you, Mr. Trent,” the manager declared in his suavest and most professional manner, “that you are acting under a complete misapprehension. I will admit that our notice was a little short. Suppose we withdraw it altogether, eh? I am quite satisfied. We will put back the shares in the safe and you shall keep your money.” “No, I'm d--d if you do!” Trent answered bluntly. “You've had your money and I'll have the shares. I don't leave this bank without them, and I'll be shot if ever I enter it again.”