“I am sorry to say that Mr Hallam has been arrested on a charge of fraud.”
“That be true, then?” said the farmer. “Well, now, look here, Sir Gordon; I’ve banked wi’ you over twanty year, and I can’t afford to lose my brass. Tween man and man, is my money safe?”
“Perfectly, Mr Anderson.”
“That’ll do, Sir Gordon,” said the farmer, tearing up the cheque he held in his hand, and scattering it over his head. “I’ll tak’ Sir Gordon’s word or Dixons’ if they say it’s all right. I don’t want my brass.”
“Gentlemen,” said Sir Gordon, flashing slightly, “if you will trust me and my dear old friend Mr Dixon, you shall be paid all demands to the last penny we have. I am sorry to say that I have discovered a very heavy defalcation on the part of our late manager, and the loss will be large, but that loss will fall upon us, gentlemen, not upon you.”
“But I want my deeds, my writings,” cried a voice. “I’m not a-going to be cheated out o’ my rights.”
“Who is that?” said Sir Gordon.
“Mr Gemp, Sir Gordon,” said Thickens quickly. “Deposit of deeds of row of houses in Rochester Close; and shares.”
“Mr Gemp,” said Sir Gordon, “I am afraid your deeds are amongst others that are missing.”
“Ay! Ay! Robbers! Robbers!” shouted Gemp excitedly.