"Good!" said Raffles. "Here's your own cheque-book from your own room, and here's my fountain pen."
"You won't take my word?"
"It's quite enough to have to take your cheque; it should have been hard cash."
"So it shall be, Raffles, if you come up with me to my office!"
"I dare say."
"To my bank, then!"
"I prefer to go alone. You will kindly make it an open cheque payable to bearer."
The fountain pen was poised over the chequebook, but only because I had placed it in Levy's fingers, and was holding the cheque-book under them.
"And what if I refuse?" he demanded, with a last flash of his native spirit.
"We shall say good-bye, and give you until to-night."