roubled about was to ask for the total at the bank, and mumble with
satisfaction over the fine, fat figures of the balance.
Her face lighted up with a sudden reckless thought.
If she added those two ciphers herself with an old, spluttering pen, and
added the word "thousand" after the "two," who would be the wiser?
Certainly not her father. And the bank would pay without a murmur. She
seized a pen, prepared to act upon the impulse, then paused. She knew
vaguely that it was a wrong thing to do. But--her own father! Indeed, her
own money--for some of his wealth would be hers one day, and that day not
very far distant. It was ridiculous to have scruples at such a time.
She cleverly filled in the words in a shaky hand, and added the two
ciphers. She let the ink dry, and then surveyed her handiwork.
How her husband's face would light up when she told him of their good
fortune. Two thousand dollars! No, she could not imagine herself facing
the rector's gray eyes, and telling him an awful lie. It was bad enough
to alter the check. She had heard of people who had been put in prison
for altering checks!
Dick would take the check to the bank for her, so that she need not face
any inquisitive, staring clerks; and, when it was exchanged for notes,
she would be able to get rid of the loathly creature sitting in the
hall.
* * * * *
"Who presented this check?"
Vivian Ormsby, son of the banker, sat in his private room at Ormsby's
Bank, examining a check for two thousand dollars, and a cashier stood at
his side. Vivian Ormsby had just looked in at the bank for a few minutes,
and he was in a hurry.
"Young Mr. Swinton presented it, sir," the cashier explained.
Vivian Ormsby's eyes narrowed as he scrutinized the check more closely.
"Leave it with me," he commanded, "and count out the notes."
As soon as he was alone, he went to a cupboard and took out a magnifying
glass.
"Ye gods! Forgery! Made out to his mother--and yet--the signature seems
all right. Of course, the alteration might have been made in Herresford's
presence. The simplest thing would be to apply to the old man himself. If
the young bounder has altered the figures--well, if he has--then let it
go through. It will be a matter for us then, not for Herresford, who
wouldn't part with a cent to save his own, much less his daughter's,
child." Vivian Ormsby had special reasons for hating Dick Swinton just
now, not
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