The lad grew crimson to his ears, and looked at the floor much embarrassed. "I served it all right, sir," he mumbled.
"You served it," struck in Steel, with emphasis. "That is quite untrue. A tall man with a red beard served it."
"Alexander, tell the truth. What does this mean?"
The boy began to sob, and drew his coat-sleeve across his eye with a snuffle. "I thought it was all right," he said, "or I should not have given it to him."
"The summons! You gave it to someone to serve?"
"Yes, sir. To Mr. Wilson, mother's lodger."
"Is he tall? Has he a pale face and a red beard?" asked Steel.
"He has, sir. He's been with mother six months, and was always kind. When I got the summons he said that he was going into the country, and would serve it on Mr. Morley."
"Alexander," said Asher in an awful tone, "I gave you money for your railway fare to go to Rickwell. What have you done with that money, wretched boy?"
"I went to the Hippodrome with another boy," wept Alexander. "I thought as I'd take the holiday, as you'd think I was in the country. Please, sir, I'm very sorry, but I thought Mr. Wilson was all right."