“Payment in full, mister.  That’s what I want.”

He banged his fist on the table.

“No abatement?  No mercy shown to an old man on the edge of the grave?  Think, Mr. Chalker.  You will soon be as old as Mr. Emblem, your hair as white, your reason as unsteady—­”

“Payment in full, and no more words.”

“It is well.  Then, Mr. Chalker, I have another proposal to make to you.”

“I thought we should come to something more.  Out with it!”

“I believe you are a friend of Mr. Emblem’s grandson?”

“Joe?  Oh yes, I know Joe.”

“You know him intimately?”

“Yes, I may say so.”

“You know that he forged his grandfather’s name; that he is a profligate and a spendthrift, and that he has taken or borrowed from his grandfather whatever money he could get, and that—­in short, he is a friend of your own?”

It was not until after his visitor had gone that Mr. Chalker understood, and began to resent this last observation.

“Go on,” he said.  “I know all about Joe.”

“Good.  Then, if you can tell me anything about him which may be of use to me I will do this.  I will pay you double the valuation of Mr. Emblem’s shop, in return, for a receipt in full.  If you can not, you may proceed to sell everything by auction.”

Mr. Chalker hesitated.  A valuation would certainly give a higher figure than a forced sale, and then that valuation doubled!

“Well,” he said, “I don’t know.  It’s a cruel hard case to be done out of my money.  How am I to find out whether anything I tell you would be of use to you or not?  What kind of thing do you want?  How do I know that if you get what you want, you won’t swear it is of no use to you?”

“You have the word of one who never broke his word.”

Mr. Chalker laughed derisively.

“Why,” he said, “I wouldn’t take the word of an English bishop—­no, nor of an archbishop—­where money is concerned.  What is it—­what is the kind of thing you want to know?”

“It is concerned with a certain woman.”

“Oh, well, if it is only a woman!  I thought it might be something about money.  Joe, you see, like a good many other people, has got his own ideas about money, and perhaps he isn’t so strict in his dealings as he might be—­few men are—­and I should not like to let out one or two things that only him and me know.”  In fact, Mr. Chalker saw, in imagination, the burly form of Joe in his office, brandishing a stick, and accusing him of friendship’s trust betrayed.

“But as it is only a woman—­which of ’em is it?”

“This is a young woman, said to be handsome, tall, and finely-made; she has, I am told, light brown hair and large eyes.  That is the description of her given to me.”

“I know the girl you mean.  Splendid figure, and goes well in tights?”

“I have not been informed on that subject.  Can you tell me any more about her?”