'A forgery. And a clumsy one. Oh it's hard. I should have seen it on any other day but that. I could not have missed it. They showed me the cheque in there just now. I could not believe that I had passed it. I don't remember doing it. My mind was far away. I don't remember the cheque or anything about it. Yet there it is.' Once more Mike was tongue-tied. For the life of him he could not think of anything to say. Surely, he thought, he could find _something_ in the shape of words to show his sympathy. But he could find nothing that would not sound horribly stilted and cold. He sat silent. 'Sir John is in there,' went on the cashier. 'He is furious. Mr Bickersdyke, too. They are both furious. I shall be dismissed. I shall lose my place. I shall be dismissed.' He was talking more to himself than to Mike. It was dreadful to see him sitting there, all limp and broken. 'I shall lose my place. Mr Bickersdyke has wanted to get rid of me for a long time. He never liked me. I shall be dismissed. What can I do? I'm an old man. I can't make another start. I am good for nothing. Nobody will take an old man like me.' His voice died away. There was a silence. Mike sat staring miserably in front of him. Then, quite suddenly, an idea came to him. The whole pressure of the atmosphere seemed to lift. He saw a way out. It was a curious crooked way, but at that moment it stretched clear and broad before him. He felt lighthearted and excited, as if he were watching the development of some interesting play at the theatre. He got up, smiling. The cashier did not notice the movement. Somebody had come in to cash a cheque, and he was working mechanically. Mike walked up the aisle to Mr Bickersdyke's room, and went in. The manager was in his chair at the big table. Opposite him, facing slightly sideways, was a small, round, very red-faced man. Mr Bickersdyke was speaking as Mike entered. 'I can assure you, Sir John--' he was saying. He looked up as the door opened. 'Well, Mr Jackson?' Mike almost laughed. The situation was tickling him. 'Mr Waller has told me--' he began. 'I have already seen Mr Waller.' 'I know. He told me about the cheque. I came to explain.' 'Explain?' 'Yes. He didn't cash it at all.' 'I don't understand you, Mr Jackson.' 'I was at the counter when it was brought in,' said Mike. 'I cashed it.' 21. Psmith Makes Inquiries Psmith, as was his habit of a morning when the fierce rush of his commercial duties had abated somewhat, was leaning gracefully against his desk, musing on many things, when he was aware that Bristow was standing before him. Focusing his attention with some reluctance upon this blot on the horizon, he discovered that the exploiter of rainbow waistcoats and satin ties was addressing him. 'I say, Smithy,' said Bristow. He spoke in rather an awed voice.