‘That’s it,’ said Mr. Brooks. ‘Now off you go, and make haste back.’
George took the cheque and, buttoning it securely in his breast-pocket, went off to the bank with it.
As he went along he fancied that he was followed. He couldn’t get rid of the idea that a tall dark man with a hook nose was watching him. He put his hand on the pocket containing the cheque and hurried on.
At the bank where he presented the cheque, to his astonishment he saw the tall dark man at another desk, and heard him inquire about opening an account.
The cashier took the cheque, cancelled the signature, and handed George five hundred-pound notes.
The dark man concluded his inquiry, and walked hurriedly out.
A little way from the bank George had another surprise. He ran up against Mr. Brooks.
‘By Jove! Smith,’ exclaimed the manager, ‘we shall be late! I must go straight on to the tallow market. Give me the notes, and go back to the office.’
George handed the notes to the manager, glad to be released of the responsibility of carrying them through the crowded city, and walked leisurely on to the office.
Mr. Brooks was evidently in a hurry. The moment he had the notes in his possession he walked as fast as he could to the Bank of England, and there obtained gold for them.