“If Bob wants it back, why didn’t he come himself?”

“He doesn’t know I have come,” Sadie answered calmly.

Wilkinson studied her and did not like her look.  Her face was hard, her color higher than usual, and her eyes sparkled ominously.

“Well,” he said, “you told me you would pay no more of your husband’s debts, but this is not a debt.  Besides, the money must be Bob’s, since he gave me the cheque.”

“Why did he give it you?”

The question was awkward, because Wilkinson did not want to state that he had persuaded Bob to join him in a speculation.  This was the best construction that could be put upon the matter, and he did not think it would satisfy Mrs. Charnock.

“Why does a man give another a cheque?” he rejoined, with a look of good-humor that he did not feel.

“The best reason I know of is—­for value received.  But this doesn’t apply.  You allowed it wasn’t a debt, so Bob has got no value.”

“One sometimes pays for value one expects to get.”

Sadie laughed scornfully.  “If that’s what Bob has done, he’ll get badly stung.  There’s nothing coming to him from a deal with you.  I guess you don’t claim he made you a present of the money?”

“I don’t,” said Wilkinson, with a frown, for he thought he saw where she was leading him.

“Very well.  One pays for something one has got or is going to get, and as we can rule out both reasons, the cheque is bad.  In fact, it’s not worth keeping.  Better give it me back.”

“Your argument looks all right, Mrs. Charnock, but you don’t start from sure ground.  How do you know there’s nothing coming to your husband?”

“I know you,” Sadie rejoined.  “Anyhow, the cheque is certainly bad.  They’ll turn it down if you take it to the bank.”

Wilkinson made an abrupt movement.  “You can’t stop your husband’s cheque.  You don’t mean he hasn’t the dollars to meet it?”

“I don’t,” said Sadie, with an angry flush.  “Bob is honest.  The money’s there, but if you think the bank will pay when I tell them not, go and see.  The manager knows me and he knows you.”

Wilkinson saw that he was beaten, but tried to hide his anger.  “Well, it looks as if Bob was lucky.  He has a wife who will take care of him, and I reckon he needs something of the kind.  However, here’s the cheque; I want a receipt.”

Sadie wrote the receipt and he noted that her hand shook.  As she got up he glanced at the quirt.

“Did you ride over?  I thought I heard a rig.”

“I drove,” said Sadie.  “Looks as I needn’t have brought the quirt.  Well, I’m glad you agreed about the cheque being bad.  I meant to get it anyhow.”

Wilkinson gave her a curious look, but said nothing and she went out.

“I’ve saved Bob’s money,” she told Helen as she started the team.  “Wilkinson saw my arguments and didn’t kick as much as I expected, but he certainly doesn’t like me any better.  I think he’ll make trouble if he can.”