“Who?”
“Well; your own conscience for one,” said Skinner.
“He is mad, Peggy,” said Mr. Hardie, shrugging his shoulders. He then looked Skinner full in the face, and said, “Nobody was ever seized with apoplexy in my office. Nobody ever gave me L. 14,000. And if this is the probable tale with which you come here to break the law and extort money, leave my house this instant: and if ever you dare to utter this absurd and malicious slander, you shall lie within four stone walls, and learn what it is for a shabby vagabond to come without a witness to his back, and libel a man of property and honour.”
Skinner let him run on in this loud triumphant strain till he had quite done; then put out a brown skinny finger, and poked him lightly in the ribs, and said quite quietly, and oh, so drily, with a knowing wink—
“I've—got—The Receipt.”
CHAPTER LI
MR. HARDIE collapsed as if he had been a man inflated, and that touch had punctured him. “Ah!” said he. “Ah!” said Skinner, in a mighty different tone: insolent triumph to wit.
After a pause, Mr. Hardie made an effort and said contemptuously, “The receipt (if any) was flung into the dusthole and carried away. Do you think I have forgotten that?”
“Don't you believe it, sir,” was the reply. “While you turned your back and sacked the money, I said to myself, 'Oho, is that the game?' and nailed the receipt. What a couple of scoundrels we were! I wouldn't have her know it for all your money. Come, sir, I see its all right; you will shell out sooner than be posted.”