“And they told you what was true,” said Westwood. “Allow me to say that it is most unusual for a total stranger to force himself into a house in this fashion. I must ask you to go away at once unless you have something of importance to communicate to me; unless--good heavens! is it possible that you come with some news of my brother?” Dick had given a start as the idea seemed to strike him. Cyril also started, and looked at the stranger narrowly. “I know nothing of your brother, Mr. Westwood,” said the man. “But I know you. I know that it was into your hands I put my money a year ago, and I have come to you for it now. I tried to come before the bank closed, but I missed the connection of the trains at the junction. I live in the North now. I want my money, Mr. Westwood.” Mr. Westwood turned upon the man. “You should know well enough that this is not the time or the place to come about any matter of banking business,” said he. “I don't remember ever seeing you before, but even if I did remember you, I could only give you the answer I have already given. I shall be pleased to go into any business question at the bank. I decline to hold any business communication with you at this time or in this place. I have had business enough and to spare for one day. I must ask you to come to the bank in the morning.” “I've no notion of being put off in that way, Mr. Westwood,” said the man. “How am I to know that your bank will open to-morrow or any other day? I got a telegram at noon telling me that Westwoods' would be the next of the county banks to go to the wall, and I hurried up from Midleigh, where I am employed, hoping to be in time to pluck my savings out of the ruin; but, as I told you, I missed the train connection. But here I am and here”-- “I do not wish to hear anything further about you or your business at this time, my good sir,” said Richard. “I have been courteous to you up to the present. I must now insist on your retiring. It would be insufferable if a man in my position had to be badgered on business matters at any hour of the day and night. Come, sir.” He had gone to the side of the window and made a motion with his hand in the direction of the garden. “Look here, Mr. Westwood,” said the man, “you know me well enough. My name is Carton Standish, and I lodged with you just a year ago the six hundred pounds which I had saved for my wife and child. You know that I speak the truth. Psha! What's the use of going over the matter again?” “That's what I ask too; so I insist”-- “It's not for you but for me to insist,” broke in the man. “It's for me to insist, and I do insist. Come, sir, hand over that money of mine without the delay of another minute. It's my money, not yours, and I decline to be swindled out of it by you or any other cheat of a bankrupt.”