I could gather neither comfort nor hope from his face as he stood to let me pass.
“Come when I ring,” said Mr Merrett to him.
Once more I stood before my employers. The stranger was still in the room, and eyed me as I entered in a manner which made me feel as if, whatever I was, I ought to be the guilty person.
“This matter, Batchelor,” began Mr Merrett, solemnly, “is more serious than we imagined. Not only has a cheque been stolen, but it has been tampered with. Look here!”
So saying he held out the cheque. It was dated the previous day, and payable to bearer. But the amount, instead of being eight pounds, was eighty. The alteration had been neatly made, and no one who did not know the original amount drawn for would have suspected that £80 was not the proper sum.
“This cheque,” said Mr Merrett, “was presented at the bank this morning at ten o’clock and cashed.”
I made no reply, being determined to say as little as I could.
“You were here at this hour, I believe,” continued Mr Merrett, “but you had left the office between 9 and 9:45.”
“No, sir. I have not left the office since I arrived at half-past eight.”
Mr Merrett touched the bell.