“How did that happen, I wonder? Stay, I have type-written copies of both speeches—the toast and the reply. Yes, yes, I always keep one copy. I am afraid I do understand how I may have blundered.” He opened a drawer, and turned over some papers. “Ah, yes, yes. Dear me! I sent out the second copy of your speech to the other man instead of his own. Here is his own duplicate—the two copies—which fully explains it. Dear, dear! Tut, tut, tut! I fear you were unable to rise to the occasion and make up a little speech for yourself?”
“I could not; I was too much astonished, and I may add disgusted, to do—er—justice to myself.”
“No doubt—no doubt. My clients never can do justice to their own genius without my help. Now sit down, sir, and let us talk this over for a moment.”
He himself sat down. His son meanwhile stood at the open door, still as one petrified.
“Now, sir, I confess that you have reason to complain. It was a most unfortunate accident. The other man must have observed something wrong about the opening words. However, most unfortunate.” He opened a safe standing beside him, and took out a small bundle of cheques. “Your cheque arrived yesterday morning. Fortunately, it is not yet paid in. I return it, sir—twenty guineas. That is all I can do for you except to express my regret that this accident should have occurred. I feel for you, young gentleman. I forgive your murderous intentions, and I assure you, if you will come to me again, I will make you the finest after-dinner orator in the town. And now, sir, I have other clients.”
He rose. The young man put the cheque in his pocket.
“It will be,” he said grandly, “my duty to expose you—everywhere.” He turned to his companion. “To expose you both.”
“And yourself, dear sir—and yourself at the same time.”
The Agent rattled the keys in his pocket, and repeated the words, “Yourself at the same time.”
“I don’t care—so long as I expose you.”