"
Mr. Bundercombe folded up his checkbook and replaced it in his pocket.
"Then what are you going to do about it?" he asked.
"Where is your bank?" Mr. Cheape inquired.
"In Pall Mall," Mr. Bundercombe answered.
"Then I am afraid," Mr. Cheape decided, "there is nothing for it but to
ask you to repair there and cash your own check."
Mr. Bundercombe rose to his feet.
"All right!" he agreed. "I suppose we had better finish the affair while
we are about it. One of you had better come with me."
Captain Bannister promptly volunteered. He and I and Mr. Bundercombe
descended the stairs and entered the car. We pulled up in a few minutes at
the door of Mr. Bundercombe's bank.
"Will you come in with me?" Mr. Bundercombe invited, turning to Captain
Bannister.
Captain Bannister excused himself.
"I will wait here with Mr. Walmsley," he said, "if you will allow me."
Mr. Bundercombe departed inside the bank and reappeared in the course of a
few moments. His breast coat pocket was bulging. On our way back he drew
out five packets of banknotes, which he counted carefully. Captain
Bannister watched him out of the corner of his eye with a hungry
expression. We were only absent from the flat altogether about a quarter
of an hour, and the rest of the affair was promptly settled.
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