"Contrariwise, Sammy! Wish you mayn't! Long life to you," he said.
He turned again to the book, carefully turned its leaves, picked out one by one ten five-pound notes, shook it roughly upside down, and concluded there were no more.
"Artful!" he said admiringly.
Mr. Montague knew all the ropes.
"I can tell yer, bright!" he whispered eagerly.
"Ah, I know you would!" said the big Midlander with a good-humoured laugh. "Not flash goods are they?"
"No, Mr. Ferguson, no," came the whisper again, pathetically eager, "nor my own savings neither. I won't lie to yer, Mr. Ferguson, sir! I won't! Bright! I did it t' oblige a widder!"
"I understand," said Mr. Ferguson genially, putting a reassuring hand upon Mr. Montague's shoulder. "Bless you! We wouldn't lose you, Sam, not for di'monds, we wouldn't! But we 're bound to go the bank, you know," he added in his duty tone, "and we 're bound to prosecute if we find who did the pinching!"
Mr. Montague was reassured.
"I am a sort of banker, Mr. Ferguson," he
