"I mean what I say," cried Harry, in a low, angry voice. "Why, you went and got them, as we agreed." "I did not go and get them as we agreed." "Yes, you did, for I saw you." "How dare you, you lying cur!" cried Harry, seizing him by the throat and holding him back against the chair. "Give me the notes." "Don't! don't! You've hurt me enough once to-night. Look! my head's bleeding now." Harry loosened his grasp, for the fact was patent. "I--I hurt you?" "Yes, with that ruler. What made you hit me like that? Take me for old Van Heldre?" Harry's jaw dropped, and he stared wildly at his companion. "I--I hit you!" he faltered, as he struggled with his memory and asked himself whether he had stricken Pradelle down and not the old merchant. "Well, I've got a cut two inches long and my head all swollen up. What made you do it?" "I--do it! Here, what do you mean?" "Mean? Why, that you were so long getting the loan--" "Say stealing the notes. It would be more like the truth," said Harry shortly. "I won't. I say you were so long getting the loan that I came to see what you were about, and you flew at me and knocked me down with the big ruler. Took me for a watchman, I suppose." "But when?--where?" cried Harry excitedly. "Where? By the safe; inner office. What a fool you were!" "Impossible!" thought Harry, as his confusion wore off. "Look here," he cried aloud, "this is a mean, contemptible lie. You have the money; give it me, I say." "Supposing I had it," snarled Pradelle, "what for?" "To restore it to its owner." "Well, seeing that I haven't got the money, I say you shall not give it back. If I had got it I'd say the same." "You have got it. Come, no excuses." "I tell you I haven't got a penny. You struck me down after you had taken it from the safe." "It's a lie!" cried Harry fiercely. "I was not going to do the accursed work, and I did not strike you down." "Then look here," cried Pradelle, pointing to his injured head. "I know nothing about that. You have the money, and I'll have it before I leave this room." "You'll be clever, then," sneered Pradelle. "Will you give it me?" "No. How can I?" "Don't make me wild, Pradelle, for I'm desperate enough without that. Give me those notes, or, by all that's holy, I'll go straight to the police and charge you with the theft." "Do," said Pradelle, "if you dare." The man's coolness staggered Harry for the moment. "If I'd got the money do you think I should be fool enough to make all this fuss? What do you mean? What game are you playing? Come, honour among--I mean, be square with me. You've got the notes." "Ah!" ejaculated Harry, with a look of disgust. "I tell you I have not." "Harry! Harry!" It was his sister's voice, and he heard her knocking sharply at his door. "Look here, Pradelle, you've got those notes, and I tell you once more, you have to give them up or it's a case of police."