“Not till you have shown me by what authority you hold the note.”
“As the agent of the promisee!” snapped he.
“Did she authorize you to collect it?” I inquired.
He drew his out pocket-book, and trembling with rage and impatience took a document from it, which he thrust into my face. It was a general power of attorney, authorizing him to transact any and all business for my aunt, and ratifying all his proceedings under it. Of course it was dated before Aunt Rachel’s present sickness, but I could not deny his power to act under it.
“Are you satisfied?” said he, in a triumphant tone, and he folded up the paper and restored it to his pocket-book.
“I am,” I answered.
“Pay then!”
“When do you want the money?” I asked, in a tone of easy indifference, for I saw that I could make nothing by attempting to bluff the old fellow.
“Now!”
“Of course I don’t carry a thousand dollars around with me, in my pocket, and I did not expect to be called upon to pay this note to-day. It is not convenient for me to do so.”