Mr. Crump leaned his broom against the wall and shuffled away down the corridor until he came to the basement door. After that Hugh could hear his footsteps clap-clapping down the stairs. Then there was silence, save for the clatter of a typewriter in the office at the end of the hall. Hugh looked at his watch and made a grimace of despair. It was nearly four o’clock! He wondered whether Mr. Crowley would put him to a lingering death or would dispatch him quickly and mercifully! Then Mr. Crump came back. “Here you be, young man,” he said importantly. “There’s nine dollars.” He counted them slowly into Hugh’s hand, two twos and five ones, all very soiled and creased. “I’m expecting you to pay it back to me like you said, because―――― But I know you will,” he ended hurriedly. “I ain’t doubting your word, mind. I can see you ain’t like the rest of these scallywags here. Maybe it’s because you’re an Englishman and have more sense of decency.” “I say, I can’t begin to tell you how――how grateful I am,” said Hugh. “It’s perfectly ripping of you, Mr. Crump, and I’m no end obliged! I’ll pay it back to you just as soon as ever I can, by Saturday surely. Thanks awfully!” “You’re welcome, sir, you’re quite welcome. If it comes to that, I guess the losing of it wouldn’t cripple me none. There’s――hm――I got a bit more put away in the bank.” Hugh found Mr. Fallow standing in front of the photograph of Lockley Manor, his derby hat clasped behind him and an unlighted cigar protruding from under one end of that enormous mustache. “Get it?” he asked as Hugh closed the door behind him. “Yes.” Hugh pulled the money from his pocket and laid it on the table. Then he went into his room and returned with his own contribution of six dollars. “There it is, Mr. Fallow. Twenty dollars. You might count it, eh? And I dare say you’d better give me some sort of a receipt if you don’t mind.” “Quite a business man, you are,” chuckled Mr. Fallow, seemingly restored to good humor by the money. “I’ll credit the amount on the bill here. There you are. Balance due, fourteen and sixty. Sorry to have to seem a bit pushing, Mr. Winslow, but in my business――――” “By the way, what is your business?” asked Hugh. “Eh? My business? Well, don’t you know what you bought from me?” Hugh shook his head. “I buy so much, you see,” he replied carelessly. “Boots, wasn’t it?” “Clothes. A blue serge suit and a pair of flannel trousers. It’s set down there on the bill. Look here, you don’t mean that you’ve forgotten getting them, do you?” “Quite.” Hugh yawned. “One buys a good many suits in the course of a year, you know.” He moved toward the door. “Sorry to hurry you, Mr. Fallow, but I’ve got an appointment.”