“I cannot account for it, unless I signed the receipt before I had the money. It was just when Mr. Eaton’s accident happened, and I ran out of the shop while Joe was waiting. When I came back he had gone.”
“Which is as much as to say,” said the builder, “that Joe’s a thief. You’d better be careful, young man.”
“Well, Mr. Humphries,” said Mr. Furze, loftily, “we will not detain you: there is clearly a mistake somewhere; we will credit you at once with the amount due for the previous quarter, and if you will give me your account I will correct it now.”
Mr. Furze took it, and ruled through the first line, altering the total.
“This is very unpleasant, Mr. Catchpole,” observed Mr. Furze, after the builder had departed. “Was there anybody in the shop besides yourself and Joe?”
“Jim was there.”
Mr. Furze rang a bell, and Jim presently appeared. “Jim, were you in the shop when your brother came to pay Mr. Humphries’ bill about a week ago?”
“I wor.”
“Did he pay it? did you see him hand over the money?”
“I did, and Mr. Catchpole took it and put it in the till. I see’d it go in with my own eyes.”