“Is he in his office now?”
She nodded, and without any further word Lawley Foss, in some trepidation, knocked at his chief’s door.
“The truth is, Mr. Knebworth, I want to ask a favour of you.”
“Is it money?” demanded Jack, looking up from under his bushy brows.
“Well, it was money, as a matter of fact. There have been one or two little bills I’ve overlooked, and the bailiffs have been after me. I’ve got to raise fifty pounds by two o’clock this afternoon.”
Jack pulled open a drawer, took out a book and wrote a cheque, not for fifty pounds, but for eighty.
“That’s a month’s salary in advance,” he said. “You’ve drawn your pay up to to-day, and by the terms of your contract you’re entitled to one month’s notice or pay therefore. You’ve got it.”
Foss went an ugly red.
“Does that mean I’m fired?” he asked loudly.
Jack nodded.