The credit's good for it, I think; but I shall have to get around.

Write me a cheque for your stuff.

Meet me at the Occidental in an hour." I wrote my cheque at a desk, and I declare I could never have recognised my signature.

Jim was gone in a moment; Trent had vanished even earlier; only Bellairs remained exchanging insults with the auctioneer; and, behold! as I pushed my way out of the exchange, who should run full tilt into my arms, but the messenger boy?
It was by so near a margin that we became the owners of the Flying Scud..