“No doubt, Mr. Finsbury,” returned Mr. Judkin; “and if you insist I will take it into consideration; but I hardly think—in short, Mr. Finsbury, if there had been nothing else, the signature seems hardly all that we could wish.”
“That’s of no consequence,” replied Morris nervously. “I’ll get my uncle to sign another. The fact is,” he went on, with a bold stroke, “my uncle is so far from well at present that he was unable to sign this cheque without assistance, and I fear that my holding the pen for him may have made the difference in the signature.”
Mr. Judkin shot a keen glance into Morris’s face; and then turned and looked at Mr. Bell.
“Well,” he said, “it seems as if we had been victimised by a swindler. Pray tell Mr. Finsbury we shall put detectives on at once. As for this cheque of yours, I regret that, owing to the way it was signed, the bank can hardly consider it—what shall I say?—business-like,” and he returned the cheque across the counter.
Morris took it up mechanically; he was thinking of something very different.
“In a case of this kind,” he began, “I believe the loss falls on us; I mean upon my uncle and myself.”
“It does not, sir,” replied Mr. Bell; “the bank is responsible, and the bank will either recover the money or refund it, you may depend on that.”
Morris’s face fell; then it was visited by another gleam of hope.
“I’ll tell you what,” he said, “you leave this entirely in my hands. I’ll sift the matter. I’ve an idea, at any rate; and detectives,” he added appealingly, “are so expensive.”
“The bank would not hear of it,” returned Mr. Judkin. “The bank stands to lose between three and four thousand pounds; it will spend as much more if necessary. An undiscovered forger is a permanent danger. We shall clear it up to the bottom, Mr. Finsbury; set your mind at rest on that.”