as disposed to be irritable.

"What on earth are you both staring at?" he asked. "Nothing wrong
with my appearance, is there? You get out into the warehouse,
Jarvis, and wait until you're sent for. Chetwode, go and sit down at
your desk. I'll be ready to dictate replies to these as soon as I've
glanced them through."

Mr. Jarvis made a slow retreat towards the door. Every now and then
he turned and looked back over his shoulder.

"You will allow me to say, sir," he faltered, "that I--that we all
are glad to see you back."

"See me back?" Mr. Weatherley repeated, frowning heavily. "What the
devil do you mean, sir? Why, I was here till nearly six last
evening, straightening out the muddle you'd got Coswell's account
into."

Mr. Jarvis withdrew precipitately, closing the door behind him. Mr.
Weatherley glanced across the room to where Arnold was standing.

"I'm hanged if I can understand Jarvis lately," he said. "The fellow
seems off his head. See me back, indeed! Talks as though I'd been
away for a holiday."

Arnold opened his lips and closed them again without speech. Mr.
Weatherley took up the letters and began to read them, at first in
silence. Presently he began to swear.

"Anything wrong, sir?" Arnold asked.

"Has every one taken leave of their senses?" Mr. Weatherley
demanded, in a startled tone. "These can't be this morning's
letters. They're all about affairs I know nothing of. They're
dated--yes, they're all dated July 1. I was here yesterday--I
remember signing the cheques--May 4, it was. What the--"

He stopped short. The office boy had performed his duty. Opposite
to him stood the great calendar recording the date--July 2 stared
him in the face. Mr. Weatherley put his hand to his forehead.

"Come here, Chetwode, quickly," he begged.

Arnold hurried over towards his employer. Mr. Weatherley had lost
flesh and there were bags under his eyes. His appearance now was the
appearance of a man who has received some terrifying shock. His
hands clasped the sides of his chair.

"I'm all right, Chetwode?" he gasped. "I haven't been ill or
anything? This isn't a nightmare? The office seems all changed.
You've moved the safe. The letters--I can't understand the letters!
Give me the Day Book, quick."

Arnold passed it to him silently. Mr. Weatherley turned over the
pages rapidly. At May 4, he stopped.

"Yes, yes! I remember this!" he exclaimed. "Twenty barrels of
apples, Spiers & Pond. Fifty hams to Cosw