“It comes to the same thing,” he said; “what I—­what is not mortgaged is held in bonds.  The balance, practically all of it, you owe under signature to Pedro Mancha.  It is because of that—­latest—­debt I am here.”

“Ah!”

Bill rolled a fresh cigarette and lit it.  He guessed something of what was coming—­but not all.

“Mancha will force you to meet your liabilities to him.  Your interest is shortly due to the Calford Loan Co.  You cannot meet both.”

Lablache gazed unblinkingly into the other’s face.  He was thoroughly enjoying himself.

Bill was staring pensively at his cigarette.  One leg swung pendulum fashion beside the desk.  His indebtedness troubled him not a jot.  He was trying to fathom the object of this prelude.  Lablache, he knew, had not come purposely to make these plain statements.  He blew a cloud of smoke down his nostrils with much appreciation.  Then he heaved a sigh as though his troubles were too great for him to bear.

“Right—­dead right, first time.”

The lazy eyes appeared to be staring into space.  In reality they were watching the doughy countenance before him.  “What do you propose to do?” Lablache asked, ignoring the other’s flippant tone.

Bill shrugged.

“Debts of honor must be met first,” he said quietly.  “Mancha must be paid in full.  I shall take care of that.  For the rest, I have no doubt your business knowledge will prompt you as to what course the Calford Loan Co. and yourself had best adopt.”

Lablache was slightly taken aback at the cool indifference of this man.  He scarcely knew how to deal with him.  He had driven out this morning intending to coerce, or, at least, strike a hard bargain.  But the object of his attentions was, to say the least of it, difficult.

He moved uneasily and crossed his legs.

“There is only one course open to your creditors.  It is a harsh method and one which goes devilishly against the grain.  But—­”

“Pray don’t apologize, Mr. Lablache,” broke in the other, smiling sardonically.  “I am fully aware of the tender condition of your feelings.  I only trust that in this matter you will carry out your—­er—­painful duty without worrying me with the detail of the necessary routine.  I shall settle Mancha’s debt at once and then you are welcome to the confounded lot.”

Bill moved from his position and walked towards the door.  The significance of his action was well marked.  Lablache, however, had no intention of going yet.  He moved heavily round upon his chair so as to face his man.

“One moment—­er—­Ford.  You are a trifle precipitate.  I was going on to say, when you interrupted me, that if you cared to meet me half-way I have a proposition to make which might solve your difficulty.  It is an unusual one, I admit, but,” with a meaning smile, “I rather fancy that the Calford Loan Co. might be induced to see the advantage, to them, of delaying action.”