"Trying to do me out o' my twenty pounds, that's what you are," said Mr.
Chase, knitting his brows. "But it won't do, my boy. I wasn't born
yesterday. Hand it over, afore I lose my temper. Twenty pounds I want
of you, and I don't leave this room till I get it."

Speechless with fury, Mr. Teak struck at him. The next moment the
supper-table was overturned with a crash, and Mr. Chase, with his friend
in his powerful grasp, was doing his best, as he expressed it, to shake
the life out of him. A faint scream sounded from above, steps pattered
on the stairs, and Mrs. Teak, with a red shawl round her shoulders, burst
'hurriedly into the room. Mr. Chase released Mr. Teak, opened his mouth
to speak, and then, thinking better of it, dashed into the passage, took
his hat from the peg, and, slamming the front door with extraordinary
violence, departed.

He sent round for his clothes next day, but he did not see Mr. Teak until
a month afterwards. His fists clenched and his mouth hardened, but Mr.
Teak, with a pathetic smile, held out his hand, and Mr. Chase, after a
moment's hesitation, took it. Mr. Teak, still holding his friend's hand,
piloted him to a neighbouring hostelry.

"It was my mistake, Alf," he said, shaking his head, "but it wasn't my
fault. It's a mistake anybody might ha' made."

"Have you found out who took it?" inquired Mr. Chase, regarding him
suspiciously.

Mr. Teak gulped and nodded. "I met Bert Adams yesterday," he said,
slowly. "It took three pints afore he told me, but I got it out of 'im
at last. My missis took it herself."