?"

"Only eight," said Voles. "You know that well enough, why ask?"

"Eight thousand," murmured the other, "you have had eight thousand
pounds out of me, and the two to-night will make ten. Seems a good price
for a few papers." He made the shot on spec. It was a bull's eye.

"Oh, those papers are worth a good deal more than that," said Voles, "a
good deal more than that."

So it was documents not actions that the blackmailer held in suspense
over the head of Rochester. It really did not matter a button to Jones,
he stood ready to face murder itself, armed as he was with Rochester's
letter in his pocket, and the surety of being able to identity himself.

"Well," said he, "let's finish this business. Have you a cheque book on
you?"

"I have a cheque book right enough--what's your game now?"

"Just an idea of mine before I pay you--bring out your cheque book,
you'll see what I mean in a minute."

Voles hesitated, then, with a laugh, he took the cheque book from the
breast pocket of his overcoat.

"Now tear out a cheque."

"Tear out a cheque," cried the other. "What on earth are you getting
at--one of my cheques--this is good."

"Tear out a cheque," insisted the other, "it will only cost you a penny,
and you will see my meaning in a moment."

The animal, before the insistent direction of the other, hesitated, then
with a laugh he tore out a cheque.

"Now place it on the table."

Voles placed it on the table.

Jones going to the bureau fetched a pen and ink. He pushed a chair to
the table, and made the other sit down.

"Now," said Jones, "write me out a cheque for eight thousand pounds."

Voles threw the pen down with a laugh--it was his last in that room.

"You won't?" said Jones.

"Oh, quit this fooling," replied the other. "I've no time for such
stuff--what are you doing now?"

"Ringing the bell," said Jones.

Voles, just about to pick up the cheque, paused. He seemed to find
himself at fault for a moment. The jungle beast, that hears the twig
crack beneath the foot of the man with the express rifle, pauses like
that over his bloody meal on the carcass of the decoy goat.

The door opened and a servant appeared, it was the miracle with calves.

"Send out at once, and bring in an officer--a policeman," said Jones.

"Yes, my Lord."

The door shut.

Voles jumped up, and seized his hat. Jones walked to the door and locked
it, placing the key in his pocket.

"I've got you," said he, "and I'm g