“I think you had better offer one in the People’s Bank and another in the Fourth National. They discount to-morrow.”
“Our line is full in both of these banks,” replied Granger.
“That may or may not be. Paper like this is not often thrown out. Call on the president of the Fourth National and the cashier of the People’s Bank. Say that we particularly want the money, and would like them to see that the notes go through. Star & Giltedge can easily place the other.”
Granger’s manner did not altogether please his partner. The notes lay before him on his desk, and he looked at them in a kind of dazed way.
“What’s the matter?” asked Freeling, rather sharply.
“Nothing,” was the quiet answer.
“You saw Mrs. Dinneford in the store just now. I told her last week that I should claim another favor at her hands. She tried to beg off, but I pushed the matter hard. It must end here, she says. Mr. Dinneford won’t go any farther.”
“I should think not,” replied Granger. “I wouldn’t if I were he. The wonder to me is that he has gone so far. What about the renewal of these notes?”
“Oh, that is all arranged,” returned Freeling, a little hurriedly. Granger looked at him for some moments. He was not satisfied.
“See that they go in bank,” said Freeling, in a positive way.
Granger took up his pen in an abstracted manner and endorsed the notes, after which he laid them in his bank-book. An important customer coming in at the moment, Freeling went forward to see him. After Granger was left alone, he took the notes from his bank-book and examined them with great care. Suspicion was aroused. He felt sure that something was wrong. A good many things in Freeling’s conduct of late had seemed strange. After thinking for a while, he determined to take the notes at once to Mr. Dinneford and ask him if all was right. As soon as his mind had reached this conclusion he hurried through the work he had on hand, and then putting his bank-book in his pocket, left the store.
On that very morning Mr. Dinneford received notice that he had a note for three thousand dollars falling due at one of the banks. He went immediately and asked to see the note. When it was shown to him, he was observed to become very pale, but he left the desk of the note-clerk without any remark, and returned home. He met his wife at the door, just coming in.
“What’s the matter?” she asked, seeing how pale he was. “Not sick, I hope?”
“Worse than sick,” he replied as they passed into the house together. “George has been forging my name.”
“Impossible!” exclaimed Mrs. Dinneford.
“I wish it were,” replied Mr. Dinneford, sadly; “but, alas! it is too true. I have just returned from the Fourth National Bank. They have a note for three thousand dollars, bearing my signature. It is drawn to the order of George Granger, and endorsed by him. The note is a forgery.”