"A cynical letter," said Chelubai sadly, as he put it in his note-case. "It would do you a lot of harm if ever it became public property."
"There will be no need—no need," said the King of Finance.
"I hope not," said Chelubai. "Now for the check."
Honest John Driver pulled himself together and looked round. The honesty, which had not been conspicuous for some time in his face, shone out in all its old brazen ostentation, and he said: "I'm afraid I haven't got my check-book with me. I'll send you a check as soon as I get back to town."
"What!" I shouted. "No check! Burn him! Burn him!"
"Burn him! Burn him!" yelled Chelubai.
"Burn him!" cried Angel.
"Burn him!" roared Bottiger, and catching him by the scruff of the neck, he shook him vigorously.
"Wait! Wait!" screeched the King of Finance. "I may have a blank check on me! I sometimes carry one," and with fumbling fingers he groped furiously in his waistcoat pocket and brought out a folded check.
"What an escape you've had!" said Angel.
"The King of Finance opened the check with such shaking fingers that we gave him a brandy and soda before we let him fill it up. Our right-
