“Isn’t it her own money she’s taking?” said the Pilot. “I’m her father, and I don’t see anything wrong about it.”
“But there her credit ceases,” said the manager.
“Let it cease,” said the Pilot.
The cheque was cashed at the counter, and Rose walked out of the bank with a mighty sheaf of notes in her hand.
For safety’s sake, the Pilot relieved her of some of her wealth, and Captain Sartoris relieved her of the rest, and thus the three walked briskly towards the Red Tape Office. Here, with difficulty and much climbing up and down stairs and traversing of corridors, they found the room of the District Judge, who was, in his minor capacity, likewise the Resident Magistrate.
He was a man of benign countenance, who, after the customary greetings and explanations had been made, politely asked them to be seated. This invitation the Pilot neglected to comply with, but, advancing to the table behind which the Judge sat, he said,
“I believe you have locked up a young man of the name of Scarlett.”
“That’s so,” said the Judge.
“Well, he’s a friend o’ mine,” said the Pilot, “a partic’lar friend.”
“Indeed,” said the Judge, smiling kindly. “I’m glad that Mr. Scarlett is not without friends.”