"Five thousand, eight hundred and fifty dollars, in round numbers," replied the lame youth, in a businesslike voice. "The receipt, please. I will draw you a check for the amount at once."
He drew a small book from his pocket, and proceeded to write the figures as if such items were mere bagatelles in his business. Mori, who had been an interested but silent spectator now stepped forward and whispered a few words to Grant. The latter nodded, and said, again addressing Mr. Black:
"By the way, sir, I think you had better accompany me to the American or English consulate. In view of past happenings, I prefer to have a reputable witness to this payment."
The merchant's face flushed a deep red, and then paled again. Before he could reply, Ralph emerged from the inner office and advanced toward Grant with his hands clinched and a threatening look upon his dark countenance.
"What do you mean, you scoundrel?" he stormed. "Do you dare to insult my father in his own office? I've a notion to——"
He broke off abruptly and lowered his hands. Mori had stepped before Grant in a manner there was no mistaking. The young Japanese was small of stature, but there was an air of muscular solidity about him which spoke eloquently of athletic training.
"No threats, Ralph Black," he exclaimed, coolly. "We are here on a matter of business with your father. Please remember that you have to deal with me as well as Mr. Manning."
"What have you to do with it?" grated the youth. "Mind your own business."
"That is exactly what I am doing," was the suave reply.