“You are mistaken,” said Mr. Fairchild. “The receipt and the signature are genuine, and it is written on one of our letter heads.”
Mullins took the receipt and faltered:
“I don’t understand it.”
“Nor do I,” said the broker, sternly. “Did you make any entry on the books?”
“I—I don’t remember.”
“Show me the record.”
Mr. Fairchild opened the book, and saw an entry made, but afterward erased.
When the bookkeeper found the receipt on the table, a promising piece of rascality was suggested to him. He would keep the money himself, and conceal the record.
“Mr. Long,” said the broker, “here is your receipt. It is clear that you have paid your rent. You will have no more trouble.”
Then, as the mechanic left the office, the broker, turning to the bookkeeper, said, sternly: