COKESON. No! Nine pounds. My lunch was just coming in; and of course I like it hot; I gave the cheque to Davis to run round to the bank. He brought it back, all gold--you remember, Mr. Walter, you wanted some silver to pay your cab. [With a certain contemptuous compassion] Here, let me see. You've got the wrong cheque. He takes cheque-book and pass-book from WALTER. WALTER. Afraid not. COKESON. [Having seen for himself] It's funny. JAMES. You gave it to Davis, and Davis sailed for Australia on Monday. Looks black, Cokeson. COKESON. [Puzzled and upset] why this'd be a felony! No, no! there's some mistake. JAMES. I hope so. COKESON. There's never been anything of that sort in the office the twenty-nine years I've been here. JAMES. [Looking at cheque and counterfoil] This is a very clever bit of work; a warning to you not to leave space after your figures, Walter. WALTER. [Vexed] Yes, I know--I was in such a tearing hurry that afternoon. COKESON. [Suddenly] This has upset me. JAMES. The counterfoil altered too--very deliberate piece of swindling. What was Davis's ship? WALTER. 'City of Rangoon'. JAMES. We ought to wire and have him arrested at Naples; he can't be there yet. COKESON. His poor young wife. I liked the young man. Dear, oh dear! In this office! WALTER. Shall I go to the bank and ask the cashier? JAMES. [Grimly] Bring him round here. And ring up Scotland Yard. WALTER. Really? He goes out through the outer office. JAMES paces the room. He stops and looks at COKESON, who is disconsolately rubbing the knees of his trousers. JAMES. Well, Cokeson! There's something in character, isn't there? COKESON. [Looking at him over his spectacles] I don't quite take you, sir. JAMES. Your story, would sound d----d thin to any one who didn't know you. COKESON. Ye-es! [He laughs. Then with a sudden gravity] I'm sorry for that young man. I feel it as if it was my own son, Mr. James. JAMES. A nasty business! COKESON. It unsettles you. All goes on regular, and then a thing like this happens. Shan't relish my lunch to-day. JAMES. As bad as that, Cokeson? COKESON. It makes you think. [Confidentially] He must have had temptation. JAMES. Not so fast. We haven't convicted him yet. COKESON. I'd sooner have lost a month's salary than had this happen. [He broods.] JAMES. I hope that fellow will hurry up. COKESON. [Keeping things pleasant for the cashier] It isn't fifty yards, Mr. James. He won't be a minute. JAMES. The idea of dishonesty about this office it hits me hard, Cokeson. He goes towards the door of the partners' room. SWEEDLE. [Entering quietly, to COKESON in a low voice] She's popped up again, sir-something she forgot to say to Falder. COKESON. [Roused from his abstraction] Eh? Impossible. Send her away! JAMES. What's that?