"I have."
"What does the bearer look like?"
"Tall, dark man, smooth face, dressed like a workingman. It's all right. Pay it at once. Good day."
That was enough. The teller returned to his little window. Dismissing the uniformed attendant, he turned to Armitage and in a tone as if he had never for a moment doubted the genuineness of the check, asked suavely:
"Fifties and hundreds, I think you said, Sir."
Rapidly counting out the bills, he passed them through the little opening and turned to attend to the next man on the line.
Armitage slowly folded up bills, a grim smile of satisfaction. He had enjoyed the situation hugely.
"Now for my steamship passage!" he muttered to himself.
Turning to the right as he re-entered Broadway, he walked about a mile in the direction of the Battery until he came to Bowling Green, where the steamship companies have their offices. Conspicuous on the left-hand side were the palatial offices of the Blue Star Line. As he went up the imposing stone steps leading to the passenger booking-rooms, he thought bitterly under what different conditions he had last visited these offices. Then it was to sign articles as stoker on the Atlanta.
He entered the room devoted exclusively to first cabin business, and a clerk, quick to notice his shabby appearance, spoke up impatiently: