"Well," said he, "that ends the business. I hope, with this, and what I have to say to him, Marcus will part, and as I say, if things turn out as I hope, maybe I'll right your losses--I have no quarrel with you--only Marcus." Suddenly Voles spoke. "For God's sake," said he, "mind how you deal with that chap; he's never been got the better of, curse him. Go cautiously." "You never fear," said Jones. CHAPTER XV THE ATTACK (Continued) Jones had already obtained Marcus Mulhausen's address from the invaluable Kelly. Mulhausen was a financier. A financier is a man who makes money without a trade or profession, and Mulhausen had made a great deal of money, despite this limitation, during his twenty years of business life, which had started humbly enough behind the counter of a pawnbroker's in the Minories. His offices were situated in Chancery Lane. They consisted of three rooms: an outer waiting room, a room inhabited by three clerks, that is to say a senior clerk, Mr. Aaronson, and two subordinates, and an inner room where Mulhausen dwelt. Jones, on giving his name, was shown at once into the inner room where Mulhausen was seated at his desk. Mulhausen was a man of sixty or so, small, fragile looking, with grey side whiskers and drowsy heavy-lidded eyes. He nodded to Jones and indicated a chair. Then he finished his work, the reading of a letter, placed it under an agate paper weight, and turned to the newcomer. "What can I do for you this morning?" asked Mulhausen. "You can just read this letter," said Jones. He handed over Voles' letter. Mulhausen put on his glasses, opened the letter, and read it. Then he placed the open letter on top of the one beneath the agate paper weight, tore up the envelope, and threw the two fragments into the waste paper basket behind him. "Anything more?" asked he. "Yes," replied the other, "a lot more. Let us begin at the beginning. You have obtained from me a piece of real estate worth anything up to a million pounds; you paid five thousand for it." "Yes!" "You have got to hand me that property back." "I beg your pardon," said Mulhausen. "Do you refer to the Glanafwyn lands?" "Yes." "I see. And I have to hand those back to you--anything more?" "No, that's all. I received your daughter's letters back from Voles yesterday--Let's be plain with one another. Voles has confessed everything. I have his confession under his own handwriting, you are all in a net, the whole gang of you--you, your daughter, your son and Voles. You plucked me like a turkey. You know the whole affair as well as I do, and if I do not receive that property back before five o'clock to-day, I shall go to the nearest police office and swear an information against you." "I see," said Mulhausen, without turning a hair, "you will put us all in prison, will you not? That would be very unpleasant. Very unpleasant indeed." He rose, went to some tin boxes situated on a ledge behind him, took out his keys and opened one.