At the door Storth turned, as if on an afterthought.

“Oh, by-the-bye, Beaumont, I had a man here the other day, a William Schofield, of Golcar. He’d got some maggot in his head about a mortgage, and was in mortal terror about some overdue interest. He told me the amount and I gave him my cheque for it. I suppose it was all right?”

“Quite right. If you’ll wait a moment I’ll write you a cheque for the money. It’s a private account, you know. I’d forgotten the interest was due. How quickly half-years slip away when you’ve money to pay at the end of them. I think I’ve had more bother about that loan of Schofield’s than all the rest of the business put together.”

“Ah! I didn’t quite get the hang of the matter from the old gentleman. But I sized him up to be just the sort to talk enough about his interest, if he didn’t get it, to shake the credit of the Bank of England, so I just, as I say, calmed him down with a piece of stamped paper with my name in the corner.”

“Well, I’d better tell you all about it. It seems he lent three thousand pounds to Midgley, of Almondbury, on the security of Plover Mill, and some adjacent cottages, in the mill-yard, I expect. That was in my father’s time; and the strange thing about it is I’ve never been able to find any valuer’s certificate as to the value of the property at the time of the loan, though from what I know of my father’s way of doing business I’m as certain there was one as I am that the sun’s in the heavens. To make matters worse, soon after my father’s death, poor old Midgley went smash and the mill has never been wholly occupied since, and the rents from the cottages hardly pay a clerk’s wages for collecting. However, I told Schofield I’d pay the interest myself, and so I must, I fear, for the sake of the dear old dad’s memory. It’s a bit of a pull though.”

“But what about the principal? Three thousand pounds isn’t exactly a flea-bite, and it would about kill Schofield to lose it.”

“I suppose I’ll have to take it on my own shoulders. I’ve always put off taking over the property, subject to the mortgage, though Midgley’s trustee is willing enough to transfer the equity to me. I hoped to get a good tenant, but things seem to go from bad to worse out Almondbury way. Still, the thing’s got to be done. They can’t go on in this slip-shod way. Just attend to the matter, Sam, when you come back. Put it on a business footing. I’ll take over the whole thing, lock, stock, and barrel, with Schofield’s mortgage on the top of it.”

“All right; I’ll see to it between now and next interest-day No hurry. I think you’re rather a fool though.”

“Well, you see, it wasn’t your father, Sam. If only that confounded valuer’s certificate would turn up; but that’s past praying for, I fear, and I don’t know who the valuer was and, what’s more, when I tried to find out, some time ago, by inquiring among the auctioneers and estate agents, nary a one of them had any recollection of making a valuation.”

“All right, Beaumont, I’ll put things to ship-shape. Well, I shan’t see you again before I start, so ta-ta. Hope biz. will brighten up before I come back. It’s been as dull as ditch-water this month back.”