Roland made his appearance, a pen behind his ear, and a ruler in his hand.
“More show than work!” sarcastically exclaimed Mr. Galloway. “Now, sir, I have been questioning Mr. Arthur Channing about this unpleasant business, for I am determined to come to the bottom of it. I can get nothing satisfactory from him; so I must try what I can do with you. Have the goodness to tell me how you spent your time on Friday afternoon.”
“On Friday?—let’s see,” began Roland, out of his wits with perplexity as to how he should conceal his afternoon’s absence from Mr. Galloway. “It’s difficult to recollect what one does on one particular day more than another, sir.”
“Oh, indeed! Perhaps, to begin with, you can remember the circumstances of my enclosing the bank-note in the letter, I went into the other room to consult a ‘Bradshaw’—”
“I remember that quite well, sir,” interrupted Roland. “Channing fetched the bank-note from this room, and you put it into the envelope. It was just before we were all called to the window by Mad Nance.”
“After that?” pursued Mr. Galloway.
“After that? I think, sir, you went out after that, and Hamish Channing came in.”
“Who else came in?”
“I don’t remember any one else,” answered Roland, wishing some one would come in then, and stop the questioning. No such luck, however.
“How many people called in, while Channing was at college, and you were keeping office?” demanded Mr. Galloway.