ppened. Meanwhile Doubleday advised
me not to be seen talking to him, or anybody, but to go to my desk and
keep my own counsel. It was good advice, and I took it. Mr Barnacle
returned presently, accompanied by a man who I fancied must be connected
with the bank. The two partners and this stranger were closeted
together for some time in the inner-room, and then Doubleday was
summoned.

After what seemed a century he emerged and beckoned to me to go in.
"You're wanted," he said.

I could gather neither comfort nor hope from his face as he stood to let
me pass.

"Come when I ring," said Mr Merrett to him.

Once more I stood before my employers. The stranger was still in the
room, and eyed me as I entered in a manner which made me feel as if,
whatever I was, I ought to be the guilty person.

"This matter, Batchelor," began Mr Merrett, solemnly, "is more serious
than we imagined. Not only has a cheque been stolen, but it has been
tampered with. Look here!"

So saying he held out the cheque. It was dated the previous day, and
payable to bearer. But the amount, instead of being eight pounds, was
eighty. The alteration had been neatly made, and no one who did not
know the original amount drawn for would have suspected that L80 was not
the proper sum.

"This cheque," said Mr Merrett, "was presented at the bank this morning
at ten o'clock and cashed."

I made no reply, being determined to say as little as I could.

"You were here at this hour, I believe," continued Mr Merrett, "but you
had left the office between 9 and 9:45."

"No, sir. I have not left the office since I arrived at half-past
eight."

Mr Merrett touched the bell.

"Send Hawkesbury here," he said to Doubleday.

Hawkesbury appeared, and at Mr Merrett's bidding, after being shown the
cheque, repeated once more his story in the hearing of the stranger.

It did not vary from the former version, and included the statement that
I had quitted the office at the time alleged.

"Did you leave the office at all?" inquired Mr Barnacle.

"No," said Hawkesbury.

"Not at all?"

"No, I said so," replied he.

"And no one came to see you here?"

"No."

"Your friend Masham did not?"

Hawkesbury, much offended to be thus catechised, made no reply.

Mr Barnacle coolly repeated the question.

"No--he did not!"

"What were you doing all the time?"

"I was working."

"Yes, what particular work were you engaged in?"

"I told you--I was bal