“I beg, sir, that you will not lose your temper. It is unBUSinesslike to lose one's temper. Gadgem & Combes, sir, NEVER lose their temper. They are men of peace, sir--ALways men of peace. Mr. Combes sometimes resorts to extreme measures, but NEVER Mr. Gadgem. _I_ am Mr. Gadgem, sir,” and he tapped his soiled shirt-front with his soiled finger-nail. “PEACE is my watchword, that is why this matter has been placed in my hands. Permit me, sir, to ask you to cast your eye over this.” Harry, who was getting interested, scanned the long slip and handed it to St. George, who studied it for a moment and returned it to Harry. “You will note, I beg of you, sir, the first item.” There was a tone of triumph now in Gadgem's voice. “One saddle horse sixteen hands high, bought of Hampson & Co. on the”--then he craned his neck so as to see the list over Harry's shoulder--“yes--on the SECOND of LAST September. Rather overdue, is it not, sir, if I may be permitted to remark?” This came with a lift of the eyebrows, as if Harry's oversight had been too naughty for words. “But what the devil have I got to do with this?” The boy was thoroughly angry now. The lift of Gadgem's eyebrows did it. “You rode the horse, sir.” This came with a certain air of “Oh! I have you now.” “Yes, and he broke his leg and had to be shot,” burst out Harry in a tone that showed how worthless had been the bargain. “EXactly, sir. So your father told me, sir. You don't remember having PAID Mr. Hampson for him beFORE he broke his leg, do you, sir?” He had him pinned fast now--all he had to do was to watch his victim's struggles. “Me? No, of course not!” Harry exploded. “EXactly so, sir--so your father told me. FORcibly, sir--and as if he was quite sure of it.” Again he looked over Harry's shoulder, following the list with his skinny finger. At the same time he lowered his voice--became even humble. “Ah, there it is--the English racing saddle and the pair of blankets, and the--might I ask you, sir, whether you have among your papers any receipt for--?” “But I don't pay these bills--I never pay any bills.” Harry's tone had now reached a higher pitch. “EXactly so, sir--just what your father said, sir, and with such vehemence that I moved toward the door.” Out went the finger again, the insinuating voice keeping up. “And then the five hundred dollars from Mr. Slater--you see, sir, we had all these accounts placed in our hands with the expectation that your father would liquidate at one fell swoop--these were Mr. Combes's very words, sir: 'ONE FELL SWOOP.'” This came with an inward rake of his hand, his fingers grasping an imaginary sickle, Harry's accumulated debts being so many weeds in his way. “And didn't he? He always has,” demanded the culprit. “EXactly so, sir--exactly what your father said.” “Exactly what?” “That he had heretofore always paid them.” “Well, then, take them to him!” roared Harry, breaking loose again. “I haven't got anything to do with them, and won't.”