“Your father's PREcise words, sir,” purred Gadgem. “And by the time he had uttered them, sir, I was out of the room. It was here, sir, that the very polite colored man, Alec by name, so I am informed, and of whom I made mention a few moments ago, became of inVALuable assistance--of very GREAT assistance, sir.” “You mean to tell me that you have seen my father--handed him these bills, and that he has refused to pay them?” Harry roared on. “I DO, sir.” Gadgem had straightened his withered body now and was boring into Harry's eyes with all his might. “Will you tell me just what he said?” The boy was still roaring, but the indignant tone was missing. “He said--you will not be offended, sir--you mean, of course, sir, that you would like me to state exACTly what your father said, proceeding as if I was under oath.” It is indescribable how soft and mellifluous his voice had now become. Harry nodded. “He said, sir, that he'd be DAMNED if he'd pay another cent for a hot-headed fool who had disgraced his family. He said, sir, that you were of AGE--and were of age when you contracted these bills. He said, sir, that he had already sent you these accounts two days after he had ordered you from his house. And FInally, sir--I say, finally, sir, because it appeared to me at the time to be conclusive--he said, sir, that he would set the dogs on me if I ever crossed his lot again. HENCE, sir, my appearing three times at your door yesterday. HENCE, sir, my breaking in upon you at this unseemly hour in the morning. I am particular myself, sir, about having my morning meal disturbed; cold coffee is never agreeable, gentlemen--but in this case you must admit that my intrusion is pardonable.” The boy understood now. “Come to think of it I have a bundle of papers upstairs tied with a red string which came with my boxes from Moorlands. I threw them in the drawer without opening them.” This last remark was addressed to St. George, who had listened at first with a broad smile on his face, which had deepened to one of intense seriousness as the interview continued, and which had now changed to one of ill-concealed rage. “Mr. Gadgem,” gritted St. George between his teeth--he had risen from the table during the colloquy and was standing with his back to the mantel, the blood up to the roots of his hair. “Yes, sir.” “Lay the packages of bills with the memoranda on my desk, and I will look them over during the day.” “But, Mr. Temple,” and his lip curled contemptuously--he had had that same trick played on him by dozens of men. “Not another word, Mr. Gadgem. I said--I--would look--them--over--during--the--day. You've had some dealings with me and know exactly what kind of a man I am. When I want you I will send for you. If I don't send for you, come here to-morrow morning at ten o'clock and Mr. Rutter will give you his answer. Todd, show Mr. Gadgem out.” “But, Mr. Temple--you forGET that my duty is to--” “I forget nothing. Todd, show Mr. Gadgem out.”