Then he became again articulate and said: "You have, you rogue! You took a commission--a secret commission on that fifty dozen of champagne I bought last month.

You've been doing it for years." James Hutchings' surly face was transformed.

It grew malignant; his fierce, protruding, red-rimmed blue eyes sparkled balefully, and he flushed to a redness as deep as that of his master.

He knew at once who had betrayed him, and he was furious--at the betrayal.

At the same time, he was not greatly alarmed; he had never received a cheque from the wine merchants; all their payments to him had been in cash, and he had always cherished a warm contempt for his master.
"I haven't," he said fiercely.