Mr. Scadgers, albeit of a stout figure, and ill-adapted for exercise, never ceased running until he ran into his own office in Berners Street, when he sat himself down and fairly panted for breath. When he had recovered a little, he called to him the wondering Jinks, and said, "How does Beresford--Charles Beresford--stand with us?"
The little man thought for a minute, and then said, "About a hundred-and-thirty-seven on renewal; due the fifteenth next month."
"What's his figure with Parkinson?"
"Between eight and nine hundred; dessay more'an a thousand--renewals, judges' orders, all sorts of things in that lot. Parkinson's clerk was here yesterday, talking about it amongst other things."
"Very good. Now look here, Jinks; you jump into a cab, and bowl away to Parkinson's as hard as you can split. Tell him the game's up; that I've just learnt Master Beresford's going to hook it abroad. Let Parkinson, or his chief clerk, ran down and swear this before the judge in chambers,--affidavy, you know,--and then let him instruct Sloman's people to collar Master Beresford at once."
"You want this done?"
"Most certainly I do; and rely on you to have it done at once. Look here, Jinks, you know me: Beresford must be quodded to-night!"
"All right; look upon it as settled."
"And more than that: learn, if you can, who holds his paper besides Parkinson, and to what amount; and bring me a list. Tell Parkinson that I've a feeling in this beyond mere business, and he'll understand. And bring me the list of the others."
Mr. Jinks nodded acquiescence and departed. As he went out of the door, Mr. Scadgers rubbed his grimy hands together, and muttered, "Better than all your horsewhippings and shootings. Master Beresford's broke up root and branch,--stock, lock, and barrel. I'll never leave him now until I've crushed him out. Insult my poor niece, did he? better have put his head in the fire at once!"