nnis."

"You are very kind," Jacob replied. "May I leave it open just for a
short time?"

"Certainly, certainly!" Mr. Bultiwell agreed. "Sybil, run along and
sit in the waiting-room for a few minutes. I'll take you up to the
Carlton, if I can spare the time. May take Mr. Pratt, perhaps."

Sybil passed out, flashing a very brilliant if not wholly natural
smile into Jacob's face, as he held open the door. Mr. Bultiwell
watched the latter anxiously as he returned slowly to his place. He
was not altogether satisfied with the result of his subtle little
plot.

"Where were we?" he continued, struggling hard to persevere in that
cheerfulness which sat upon him in these days like an ill-fitting
garment. "Ah! I know--eighty thousand pounds and an equal partnership.
How does that appeal to you, Mr. Pratt?"

"There were one or two points in the balance sheet which struck me,"
Jacob confessed, gazing down at his well-creased trousers. "The margin
between assets and liabilities, though small, might be considered
sufficient, but the liability on bills under discount seemed to me
extraordinarily large."

Mr. Bultiwell's pencil, which had been straying idly over the blotting
pad by his side, stopped. He looked at his visitor with a frown.

"Credits must always be large in our trade," he said sharply. "You
know that, Mr. Pratt."

"Your credits, however," Jacob pointed out, "are abnormal. I ventured
to take out a list of six names, on each one of whom you have
acceptances running to the tune of twenty or thirty thousand pounds."

"The majority of my customers," Mr. Bultiwell declared, with a little
catch in his breath, "are as safe as the Bank of England."

Jacob produced a very elegant morocco pocketbook, with gold edges, and
studied a slip of paper which he held towards his companion.

"Here is a list of the firms," he continued. "I have interviewed most
of them and made it worth their while to tell me the truth. There
isn't one of them that isn't hopelessly insolvent. They are being kept
on their legs by you and your bankers, simply and solely to bolster up
the credit of the House of Bultiwell."

"Sir!" Mr. Bultiwell thundered.

"I should drop that tone, if I were you," Jacob advised coldly. "You
have been a bully all your life, and a cruel one at that. Lately you
have become dishonest. When the firm of Bultiwell is compelled to file
its petition in bankruptcy, which I imagine will be a matter of only
a few weeks, I d