“Monsieur will kindly sign a check for the amount.”

“But.⁠ ⁠… I haven’t got⁠—”

“Your checkbook? Here it is.”

Astounded, Mon. Andermatt examined the checkbook that Daspry handed to him.

“It is mine,” he gasped. “How does that happen?”

“No idle words, monsieur, if you please. You have merely to sign.”

The banker took out his fountain pen, filled out the check and signed it. Varin held out his hand for it.

“Put down your hand,” said Daspry, “there is something more.” Then, to the banker, he said: “You asked for some letters, did you not?”

“Yes, a package of letters.”