“Now, Mr. Allan,” continued the lawyer, tapping the desk sharply, “here are two cheques for fifty pounds, both drawn by your father, both endorsed by you, one apparently cashed by Mr. Potts, one by yourself. What do you know about this?”
“Mr. Rae,” replied the young man, his voice trembling and husky, “I tell you I can't understand this. I ought to say that for the last two weeks I haven't been quite myself, and whiskey always makes me forget. I can walk around steadily enough, but I don't always know what I am doing—”
“That's so, Sir,” said Dunn quickly, “I've seen him.”
“—And just what happened with these cheques I do not know. This cheque,” picking up the one endorsed to Potts, “I remember giving to Potts. The only other cheque I remember is a five-pound one.”
“Do you remember cashing that five-pound cheque?” inquired Mr. Rae.
“I carried it about for some days. I remember that, because I once offered it to Potts in part payment, and he said—” the white face suddenly flushed a deep red.
“Well, Mr. Allan, what did he say?”
“It doesn't matter,” said Cameron.
“It may and it may not,” said Mr. Rae sharply. “It is your duty to tell us.”
“Out with it,” said his father angrily. “You surely owe it to me, to us all, to let us have every assistance.”