“How do you know?”
“Because this one is number 1046. I gave Hesset check No. 1046.”
“How about your signature on this other check?”
“I tell you that isn’t my signature.”
With a quick movement the banker scrambled the checks and then laid them side by side partly covered by a blotter so that only the signatures showed.
“Now, Pelle,” he snapped, “which one did you sign?”
The canner’s neck swelled again. “What is this,” he roared; “a trap? I can’t tell them apart. That’s what you’re supposed to be able to do. I tell you——”
“Gentlemen.” Dr. Stone’s voice was mild. “Let’s stay with facts. As I understand it Pelle gave a man named Hesset a check for five thousand dollars this morning. What for?”
“Damages,” Mr. Pelle snapped. “Hesset owns a butcher shop at Arlington. One of my trucks got out of control and skidded into the front of the shop. Hesset was caught in the wreckage; broken arm and broken collarbone. I don’t carry liability insurance. I settled with him and gave him a check at eleven o’clock this morning.”
Captain Tucker said: “Where does this second check come in?”