"Is it as bad as all that?" laughed their host, I a pleasant-faced,
rather bald man past forty. "Come into my little den, then."

He conducted them to a small room that looked as though it served
partly the purposes of library and partly of office.

"Now, what can I do for you?" inquired Mr. Forrester.

"We represent Mr. Farnum, of Dunhaven," began Jack, slowly.

"Farnum? Oh, yes, the boat-builder. He must know that I don't want
anything new in his line, and on any other business I imagine he would
have sent someone--er--older."

"Mr. Farnum believed you would find it wholly convenient, now, to
settle the account for the last bill," Benson went on, slipping the
statement from an inner pocket and laying it on the desk before Mr.
Forrester. That gentleman frowned slightly.

"I trust we haven't called at the wrong time, and that it will be
wholly convenient for you this evening," Jack continued.

"But, see here, young man, I know nothing about you. You have the bill,
true, but it is not receipted."

"I will receipt it, in Mr. Farnum's name."

"All well and good," replied Mr. Forrester. "But--pardon me--how do I
know that you have any authority to receipt for this account?"