some pressure on you, I suppose, sir?" suggested Easleby, who
knew that their host would tell anything and everything if left to
himself. "Wants his pound of flesh, no doubt?"

This Shakespearean allusion appeared to be lost on the lessee, but he
evidently understood what pressure meant.

"Pressure!" he exclaimed. "Yah!--there's nothing would suit that fellow
better than to have one of his victims under one of those steam-hammers
that they have nowadays, and to bring it down on him till he'd crushed
the last drop of blood out of his toes! Pressure!--I'll tell you! This
place didn't do well at first--everybody in town, in our line, anyway,
knows that--but even in these days I paid him his interest regular--down
on the nail, mind, as prompt as the date came round. But now--things are
different. I'm doing well--in a bit I could pay my gentleman off--though
not just yet. But there's big money ahead--this house has caught on, got
a reputation, become popular. And now what d'ye think my lord
wants--what he's screwing me for? Turns out that in one of those
confounded papers I signed there's a clause, that if I didn't repay him
by a certain date I should surrender my lease to him! I no doubt signed
it, not quite understanding--but damme if he didn't keep it dark till
the date was expired! And now, when I've worked things up, not only as
lessee, mind you, but as manager--to success and big prospects, hanged
if he doesn't want to collar my lease with all its fine possibilities,
and put me into work for him at a blooming salary!"

"Dear me, sir!" exclaimed Easleby. "Now--what might that exactly mean?
We're not up in these matters, you know."

"Mean?" vociferated the lessee. "It 'ud mean this. I've paid that man as
much in interest as the original loan was. He now wants my lease, all my
interest, all my chances of reward--this lease is worth many a thousand
a year now! If I surrender my lease peaceably--without fuss, you
understand--he'll wipe off my original debt to him and give me a
blooming salary of twenty-five quid a week--me! Gosh!--he ought to be
burnt alive!"

"And if you don't?" asked Starmidge, deeply interested by this
sidelight on financial dealings. "What then?"

"Then he relies on his damn paper and my signature to it, and turns me
out!" replied the aggrieved one. "Thievery!--that's what I call it.
That's his blooming ultimatum--came in last night to tell me. I hope
you'll catch him and hang him!"

The two de