"I came about my rent," he said.

"You can speak to Mr. Mullins," said the broker, going on with his writing.

"I would rather speak with you, sir."

"How is that?" asked Mr. Fairchild, his attention excited.

"I will tell you, sir," said the bookkeeper, with an ugly look. "This man came here yesterday and declined to pay his rent, because, he said, he had paid it already."

"And I had," said Long, quietly. "I am a mechanic on small wages, and I can't afford to pay my rent twice."

"Did you pay the rent to Mr. Mullins?"

"Yes, sir."

"When?"

"Day before yesterday."

"Then he gave you a receipt?"

"He did, sir."

"It seems to me that than settles the question. Did you give him a receipt, Mr. Mullins?"

"If I had, he could show it now. He says that he left it behind in the office here. Of course, that's too thin!"

"It is very important to take good care of your receipt, Mr. Long."

"Did you ever lose or mislay a receipt, sir?"

"Yes, I have on two or three occasions."

"So that I am not the only one to whom it has happened."

"Mr. Mullins, did Mr. Long come to the office on the day when he says he paid the rent?"

"Yes, sir."

"And he didn't pay it?"

"No, sir. He said he hadn't the money, but would bring it in a few days."

James Long listened in indignant astonishment.

"That is untrue, sir. I made no excuse, but handed Mr. Mullins the amount in full."

"There is a very extraordinary discrepancy in your statements. You say that he wrote out a receipt?"

"Yes, sir."

"It is a pity that you can't produce it."

"Yes," chimed in Mullins, with a sneer, "it is unlucky that you cannot produce it."

Then came a sensation.

"I can produce it," said Long. "The receipt has been found," and he drew out the slip of paper and pa.s.sed it to Mr. Fairchild.

The face of Mullins was a study. His amazement was deep and genuine.

"It must be a forgery," he said. "Mr. Long can't possibly have a receipt."

"You are mistaken," said Mr. Fairchild. "The receipt and the signature are genuine, and it is written on one of our letter heads."

Mullins took the receipt and faltered:

"I don't understand it."

"Nor do I," said the broker, sternly. "Did you make any entry on the books?"

"I--I don't remember."

"Show me the record."

Mr. Fairchild opened the book, and saw an entry made, but afterward erased.

When the bookkeeper found the receipt on the table, a promising piece of rascality was suggested to him. He would keep the money himself, and conceal the record.

"Mr. Long," said the broker, "here is your receipt. It is clear that you have paid your rent. You will have no more trouble."

Then, as the mechanic left the office, the broker, turning to the bookkeeper, said, sternly:

"Another such transaction, Mr. Mullins, and you leave my employ."

"But, sir----" stammered Mullins.

"You may spare your words. I understand the matter. If you had not been in my employ so long, I would discharge you at the end of this week."

Mullins went back to his desk, crushed and mortified. But his brain was busy with the thought, "Where could James Long have obtained the receipt?" He remembered having put it into the pocket of his overcoat, and it had disappeared.

"I was a fool that I didn't destroy it," he reflected.

CHAPTER XV.

A PLOT AGAINST CHESTER.