"You are engaged to Miss Pethram, and it is to your interest to find out who killed her father. Besides, you will pay me money. If I went to Sir Thomas or to Sir Rupert's solicitor, they would probably refuse to give me a penny, and I want the money for my son."
"If I give you a cheque for fifty pounds you will give me this--this--whatever it is you have in your bag?"
"I will; but I don't like cheques. I'd rather have the money in gold."
"You mistrust me?"
"I don't like cheques," reiterated Mrs. Belk, doggedly.
Maxwell reflected a few moments, then made up his mind what to do, and rang the bell. When the servant who attended to all the chambers in the building entered, he handed him a cheque for fifty pounds, made payable to bearer, and drawn on the Piccadilly Bank, a branch of which was not far distant.
"Take a hansom and cash this at once--gold. Will you be long?"
"About ten minutes, sir."
The servant departed, and Maxwell turned to Mrs. Belk, who observed ail these doings with a satisfied smile.
"You see I am treating you fairly," he said quietly; "and when the messenger returns I will place those fifty pounds in your hands."