Mr. Ellis looked at his papers. 'February last--sale of various stock, all duly enumerated here, to the value of 6,500_l_. March last, sale of various stock, also all duly enumerated, to the value of 12,000_l_. odd.

April last, sale of stock to the value of 20,000_l_.--more or less--realising----'

'You note the dates and amounts, Austin?' said Mr. Dering.

'Certainly; we will, however, get the dates and the amounts more exactly in a moment.--Now, Mr. Ellis, of course you received instructions with the papers themselves. Were they in writing or by word of mouth?'

'In writing. By letters written by Mr. Dering himself.'

'Have you got these letters with you?'

'Everything is here, and in proper order.' He laid his hand upon the papers. 'Here, for instance, is the first letter, dated February 14, relating to these transactions.--You will no doubt remember it, Mr.

Dering.' He took up a letter, and read it aloud: '"MY DEAR ELLIS,--I enclose a bundle of certificates and shares. They amount to somewhere about 6,500_l_. at current price. Will you have these transferred to the name of Edmund Gray, gentleman, of 22 South Square, Gray's Inn? Mr.

Edmund Gray is a client, and I will have the amount paid to my account by him. Send me, therefore, the transfer papers and the account showing the amount due to me by him, together with your commission.--Very sincerely yours, EDWARD DERING." That is the letter. The proceeding is not usual, yet not irregular. If, for instance, we had been instructed to buy stock for Mr. Dering---- But of course you know.'

'Pardon me,' said George. 'I am not so much accustomed to buy stock as my partner. Will you go on?'

'We should have done so, and sent our client the bill for the amount with our commission. If we had been instructed to sell, we should have paid in to Mr. Dering's bank the amount realised less our commission. A transfer is another kind of work. Mr. Dering transferred this stock to Edmund Gray, his client. It was therefore for him to settle with his client the charges for the transfer and the value of the stock. We therefore sent a bill for these charges. It was sent by hand, and a cheque was received by return of the messenger.'

George received the letter from him, examined it, and laid it before his partner.

Mr. Dering read the letter, held it to the Checkley.

'If anybody knows my handwriting,' he said, 'it ought to be you. Whose writing is that?'

'It looks like yours. But there is a trembling in the letters. It is not so firm as the most of your work. I should call it yours; but I see by your face that it is not.'

'No; it is not my writing. I did not write that letter. This is the first I have heard of the contents of that letter.--Look at the signature, Checkley. Two clots are wanting after the word Dering, and the flourish after the last "n" is curtailed of half its usual dimensions. Did you ever know me to alter my signature by a single curve?'

'Never,' Checkley replied. 'Two clots wanting and half a flourish.--Go on, sir; I've just thought of something. But go on.'

'You don't mean to say that this letter is a forgery?' asked Mr. Ellis.

'Why--then---- Oh! it is impossible. It must then be the beginning of a whole series of forgeries. It's quite impossible to credit it. The letter came from this office: the post-mark shows it was posted in this district: the answer was sent here. The transfers--consider--the transfers were posted to this office. They came back duly signed and witnessed--from this office. I forwarded the certificate made out in the name of Edmund Gray--to this office: and I got an acknowledgment--from this office. I sent the account of the transaction with my commission charges--to this office, and got a cheque for the latter--from this office. How can such a complicated business as this--only the first of these transactions--be a forgery? Why, you want a dozen confederates at least for such a job as this.'

'I do not quite understand yet,' said George, inexperienced in the transfer of stocks and shares.

'Well, I cannot sell stock without the owner's authority; he must sign a transfer. But if I receive a commission from a lawyer to transfer his stock to a client, it is not my business to ask whether he receives the money or not.'

'Yes--yes. And is there nothing to show for the sale of this 6,000_l_.

worth of paper?' George asked Mr. Dering.

'Nothing at all. The letters and everything are a forgery.'

'And you, Mr. Ellis, received a cheque for your commission?'

'Certainly.'

'Get me the old cheques and the cheque-book,' said Mr. Dering. The cheque was drawn, as the letter was written, in Mr. Dering's handwriting, but with the slight difference he had pointed out in the signature.

'You are quite sure,' asked George, 'that you did not sign that cheque?'

'I am perfectly certain that I did not.'

'Then as for this Edmund Gray of 22 South Square, Gray's Inn--what do you know about him?'

'Nothing at all--absolutely nothing.'

'I know something,' said Checkley. 'But go on--go on.'

'He may be a non-existent person, for what you know.'

'Certainly. I know nothing about any Edmund Gray.'

'Wait a bit,' murmured Checkley.

'Well, but'--Mr. Ellis went on--'this was only a beginning. In March you wrote to me again; that is to say, I received a letter purporting to be from you. In this letter--here it is--you instructed me to transfer certain stock--the papers of which you enclosed--amounting to about 12,000_l_.--to Edmund Gray aforesaid. In the same way as before the transfer papers were sent to you for signature: in the same way as before they were signed and returned: and in the same way as before the commission was charged to you and paid by you. It was exactly the same transaction as before--only for double the sum involved in the February business.'

Mr. Dering took the second letter and looked at it with a kind of patient resignation. 'I know nothing about it,' he said--'nothing at all.'

'There was a third and last transaction,' said the broker, 'this time in April. Here is the letter written by you with instructions exactly the same as in the previous cases, but dealing with the stock to the amount of 19,000_l_., which we duly carried out, and for which we received your cheque--for commission.'

'Every one of these letters--every signature of mine to transfer papers and to cheques--was a forgery,' said Mr. Dering slowly. 'I have no client named Edmund Gray: I know no one of the name: I never received any money from the transfers: these investments are stolen.'

'Let me look at the letters again,' said George. He examined them carefully, comparing them with each other. 'They are so wonderfully forged that they would deceive the most careful. I should not hesitate, myself, to swear to the handwriting.'

It has already been explained that Mr. Dering's handwriting was of a kind which is not uncommon with those who write a good deal. The unimportant words were conveyed by a curve, with or without a tail, while the really important words were clearly written. The signature, however, was large, distinct, and florid--the signature of the House, which had been flourishing for a hundred years and more, a signature which had never varied.

'Look at it,' said George again. 'Who would not swear to this writing?'

'I would for one,' said Mr. Ellis. 'And I have known it for forty years and more.--If that is not your own writing, Dering, it is the very finest imitation ever made.'

'I don't think my memory can be quite gone.--Checkley, have we ever had a client named Edmund Gray?'

'No--never. But you've forgotten one thing. That forgery eight years ago--the cheque of 720_l_.--was payable to the order of Edmund Gray.'

'Ah! So it was. This seems important.'

'Most important,' said George. 'The forger could not possibly by accident choose the same name. This cannot be coincidence. Have you the forged cheque?'

'I have always kept it,' Mr. Dering replied, 'on the chance of using it to prove the crime and convict the criminal. You will find it, Checkley, in the right-hand drawer of the safe. Thank you. Here it is. "Pay to the order of Edmund Gray;" and here is his endors.e.m.e.nt. So we have his handwriting at any rate.'

George took it. 'Strange,' he said. 'I should without any hesitation swear to your handwriting here as well. And look--the signature to the cheque is exactly the same as that of these letters. The two dots missing after the name, and the flourish after the last "n" curtailed.'

It was so. The handwriting of the cheque and of the letters was the same: the signatures were slightly, but systematically, altered in exactly the same way in both letters and cheque.

'This again,' said George, 'can hardly be coincidence. It seems to me that the man who wrote that cheque also wrote those letters.'