JAMES. [As COKESON re-enters from FALDER'S room] We must ask him.
Just come here and carry your mind back a bit, Cokeson. D'you
remember cashing a cheque for Mr. Walter last Friday week--the day
he went to Trenton?

COKESON. Ye-es. Nine pounds.

JAMES. Look at this. [Handing him the cheque.]

COKESON. No! Nine pounds. My lunch was just coming in; and of
course I like it hot; I gave the cheque to Davis to run round to the
bank. He brought it back, all gold--you remember, Mr. Walter, you
wanted some silver to pay your cab. [With a certain contemptuous
compassion] Here, let me see. You've got the wrong cheque.

He takes cheque-book and pass-book from WALTER.

WALTER. Afraid not.

COKESON. [Having seen for himself] It's funny.

JAMES. You gave it to Davis, and Davis sailed for Australia on
Monday. Looks black, Cokeson.

COKESON. [Puzzled and upset] why this'd be a felony! No, no!
there's some mistake.

JAMES. I hope so.