Mr. Justice Raffles

'Surely that's very hard on the boy,' I said, reaching the conciliatory stage by degrees on which Raffles paid me many compliments later; but at the time he remarked, 'I should say it was his own fault.'

'Of course it is, Mr. Raffles,' cried the moneylender, taking a more conciliatory tone himself. 'It was my money; it was my three 'undred golden sovereigns; and you can sell what's yours for what it'll fetch, can't you?'

'Obviously,' said Raffles.

'Very well, then, money's like anything else; if you haven't got it, and can't beg or earn it, you've got to buy it at a price. I sell my money, that's all. And I've a right to sell it at a fancy price if I can get a fancy price for it. A man may be a fool to pay my figure; that depends 'ow much he wants the money at the time, and it's his affair, not mine. Your gay young friend was all right if he hadn't defaulted, but a defaulter deserves to pay through the nose, and be damned to him. It wasn't me let your friend in; he let in himself, with his eyes open. Mr. Garland knew very well what I was charging him, and what I shouldn't 'esitate to charge over and above if he gave me half a chance. Why should I? Wasn't it in the bond? What do you all think I run my show for? It's business, Mr. Raffles, not robbery, my dear sir. All business is robbery, if you come to that. But you'll find mine is all above-board and in the bond.'

'A very admirable exposition,' said Raffles weightily.

'Not that it applies to you, Mr. Raffles,' the other was adroit enough to add. 'Mr. Garland was no friend of mine, and he was a fool, whereas I hope I may say that you're the one and not the other.'

'Then it comes to this,' said I, 'that you mean him to pay up in full this morning?'

'By noon, and it's just gone ten.'

'The whole seven hundred pounds?'

'Sterling,' said Mr. Levy 'No cheques entertained.'

'Then,' said I, with an air of final defeat, 'there's nothing for it but to follow my instructions and pay you now on the nail!'

I did not look at Levy, but I heard the sudden intake of his breath at the sight of my bank-notes, and I felt its baleful exhalation on my forehead as I stooped and began counting them out upon his desk. I had made some progress before he addressed me in terms of protest. There was almost a tremor in his voice. I had no call to be so hasty; it looked as though I had been playing a game with him. Why couldn't I tell him I had the money with me all the time? The question was asked with a sudden oath, because I had gone on counting it out regardless of his overtures. I took as little notice of his anger.

'And now, Mr. Levy,' I concluded, 'may I ask you to return me Mr. Garland's promissory note?'

'Yes, you may ask and you shall receive!' he snarled, and opened his safe so violently that the keys fell out. Raffles replaced them with exemplary promptitude while the note of hand was being found.

The evil little document was in my possession at last. Levy roared down the tube, and the young man of the imperfect diction duly appeared.

'Take that young biter,' cried Levy, 'and throw him into the street. Call up Moses to lend you a 'and.'

But the first murderer stood nonplussed, looking from Raffles to me, and finally inquiring which biter his master meant.

'That one!' bellowed the money-lender, shaking a lethal fist at me. 'Mr. Raffles is a friend o' mine.'

'But 'e'th a friend of 'ith too,' lisped the young man. 'Thimeon Markth come acroth the thtreet to tell me tho. He thaw them thake handth outthide our plathe, after he'd theen 'em arm-in-arm in Piccadilly, 'an he come in to thay tho in cathe—'

But the youth of limited articulation was not allowed to finish his explanation; he was grasped by the scruff of the neck and kicked and shaken out of the room, and his collar flung after him. I heard him blubbering on the stairs as Levy locked the door and put the key in his pocket. But I did not hear Raffles slip into the swivel chair behind the desk, or know that he had done so until the usurer and I turned round together.

'Out of that!' blustered Levy.

But Raffles tilted the chair back on its spring and laughed softly in his face.

'Not if I know it,' said he. 'If you don't open the door in about one minute I shall require this telephone of yours to ring up the police.'

'The police, eh?' said Levy, with a sinister recovery of self-control.

'You'd better leave that to me, you precious pair of swindlers!'

'Besides,' continued Raffles, 'of course you keep an argumentum ad hominem in one of these drawers. Ah, here it is, and just as well in my hands as in yours!'

He had opened the top drawer in the right-hand pedestal, and taken therefrom a big bulldog revolver; it was the work of few moments to empty its five chambers, and hand the pistol by its barrel to the owner.

'Curse you!' hissed the latter, hurling it into the fender with a fearful clatter. 'But you'll pay for this, my fine gentlemen; this isn't sharp practice, but criminal fraud.'

'The burden of proof,' said Raffles, 'lies with you. Meanwhile, will you be good enough to open that door instead of looking as sick as a cold mud-poultice?'

The money-lender had, indeed, turned as grey as his hair; and his eyebrows, which were black and looked dyed, stood out like smears of ink. Nevertheless, the simile which Raffles had employed with his own unfortunate facility was more picturesque than discreet. I saw it set Mr. Shylock thinking. Luckily, the evil of the day was sufficient for it and him; but so far from complying, he set his back to the locked door and swore a sweet oath never to budge.

'Oh, very well!' resumed Raffles, and the receiver was at his ear without more ado. 'Is that the Exchange? Give me nine-two-double-three Gerrard, will you?'

'It's fraud,' reiterated Levy. 'And you know it.'

'It's nothing of the sort, and you know it,' murmured Raffles, with the proper pre- occupation of the man at the telephone.

'You lent the money,' I added. 'That's your business. It's nothing to do with you what he chooses to do with it.'

'He's a cursed swindler,' hissed Levy. 'And you're his damned decoy!'

I was not sorry to see Raffles's face light up across the desk.

'Is that Howson, Anstruther and Martin?—they're only my solicitors, Mr. Levy…. Put me through to Mr. Martin, please…. That you, Charlie? … You might come in a cab to Jermyn Street—I forget the number—Dan Levy's, the money-lender's—thanks, old chap! … Wait a bit, Charlie—a constable….' 

But Dan Levy had unlocked his door and flung it open.

'There you are, you scoundrels! But we'll meet again, my fine swell-mobsmen!'

Raffles was frowning at the telephone.

'I've been cut off,' said he. 'Wait a bit! Clear call for you, Mr. Levy, I believe!' 

And they changed places, without exchanging another word until Raffles and I were on the stairs.

'Why, the 'phone's not even through!' yelled the money-lender, rushing out.

'But we are, Mr. Levy!' cried Raffles. And down we ran into the street. 

CHAPTER V Thin Air

Raffles hailed a passing hansom, and had bundled me in before I realised that he was not coming with me.

'Drive down to the club for Teddy's cricket-bag,' said he; 'we'll make him get straight into flannels to save time. Order breakfast for three in half-an-hour precisely, and I'll tell him everything before you're back.'

His eyes were shining with the prospect as I drove away, not sorry to escape the scene of that young man's awakening to better fortune than he deserved. For in my heart I could not quite forgive the act in which Raffles and I had caught him overnight. Raffles might make as light of it as he pleased; it was impossible for another to take his affectionately lenient view, not of the moral question involved, but of the breach of faith between friend and friend. My own feeling in the matter, however, if a little jaundiced, was not so strong as to prevent me from gloating over