‘Look here, Ned, before we go any further, suppose we clear the ground a little. I suppose, from your being here and walking about openly, it’s quite safe for you to have come back?’ ‘Quite.’ ‘Well, then, why did you go away so suddenly?’ ‘Not for what you think, Nolly, my boy. That’s where you’ve all been wrong, I guess. When that little affair was on and I bolted suddenly, you put two and two together and fancied I’d broken the law. Now the boot was on the other trotter. The law broke me.’ ‘How?’ ‘You know that my father had gone to America to prosecute the big lawsuit which was to make us all millionaires, and put me straight for ever?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Well, he lost the day, and I went out at once to him.’ ‘Good heavens, Marston! Don’t say that your mysterious departure was due to filial affection!’ ‘No, I don’t. You wouldn’t believe me if I did. I went out to stop the old man making a fool of himself, and carry the case further still. I wanted something saved out of the fire for myself.’ ‘Did you succeed?’ ‘No. Got there to find the old man dead, and every blessed halfpenny of his property gone in the law-costs.’ ‘You’ll excuse me, old fellow, if I suggest that there must have been another motive behind.’ ‘All right; if there was, find it out. It wasn’t the bill business.’ ‘I always thought it was.’ ‘You were wrong, then. Every acceptance old Isaacs discounted for me was genuine—as genuine as this one.’ Mr. Marston drew gently from his waistcoat-pocket a dirty and creased piece of paper, and held it out for Dr. Birnie to read. It was Birnie’s acceptance for £500. The doctor looked at it, read it, as Marston held it out before him. ‘You didn’t discount that, then?’ he said quietly. ‘I wondered it had never been presented.’ ‘Isaacs wouldn’t take it. He said it wasn’t worth the stamp it was written on.’ ‘It wasn’t,’ said Birnie, with a smile. ‘But it is now,’ replied Marston, folding it up carefully and putting it into his pocket. ‘You are wrong,’ said the doctor quietly. ‘It was worth nothing then because I was a penniless adventurer. It is worth nothing now because it is ten years old, and your claim is barred by the Statute of Limitations.’ For a moment the two men sat eyeing each other in silence. Marston was the first to break it. ‘I think you’ll pay it, in spite of the statute.’ ‘Well,’ answered the doctor, taking a pipe from the mantelshelf and filling it, ‘I may, or I may not. That depends on you. I suppose you’ve something better to offer me than this worthless piece of paper for £500?’ ‘Perhaps I have.’ ‘Take a pipe from the rack,’ said the doctor. ‘Here’s some tobacco. Tobacco is a wonderful sedative, and we want to talk this matter over calmly.’ Marston lit his pipe and settled himself down in an arm-chair. He was quite ready for a combat, if combat it was to be.