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Page 73
[Illustration: "Oh, put up your trinkets!" said Bean, with a fine
affectation of weariness]
He had not meant to call Tully that. It rushed out. Tully wriggled
uneasily in his chair at the desk, blushed well into his yellow beard,
then drew out a kerchief of purest white silk and began nervously to
polish his glasses.
"Hoo-shaw-Ha-ha-Hooshway!"
It was Breede, with, for the moment, a second purple face on the Board
of Directors. Neither Bean nor Tully ever knew whether he had suppressed
a laugh or a sneeze.
"Come, come, _come_!" broke in the oldest, sweeping the largest director
aside with one finger as he pulled a chair to the table.
"This'll never do with _us_, you know! How much, how much, how much?"
He again poised the chastely wrought fountain pen of gold above the
dainty check-book in Morocco leather.
"Have to give 'em up you know; can't allow _that_ sort of underhand
work; where'd the world be, where'd it be, where'd it _be_? Sign an
order; tell me what you paid. Take your word for it!"
He was feeling for Bean the contempt which a really distinguished
safe-blower is said to feel for the cheap thief who purloins bottles of
milk from basement doorways in the gray of dawn.
"Now, now, _now_, boy!" The pen was still poised.
"Oh, put up your trinkets," said Bean with a fine affectation of
weariness.
The old gentleman sat back and exhaled a scented but vicious breath.
There was silence. It seemed to have become evident that the
unprincipled young scoundrel must be taken seriously.
Then spoke the largest director, removing from his lips a cigarette
which his own bulk seemed to reduce to something for a microscope only.
He had been silent up to this moment, and his words now caused Bean the
first discomfort he had felt.
"You will come here to-morrow morning," he began, slanting his entire
facial area toward Bean, "and you will make restitution for this
betrayal of trust. I think I speak for these gentlemen here, when I say
we will do nothing with you to-night. Of course, if we chose--but no;
you are a free man until to-morrow morning. After that all will depend
on you. You are still young; I shall be sorry if we are forced to adopt
extreme measures. I believe we shall all be sorry. But I am sure a night
of sober reflection will bring you to your senses. You will come here
to-morrow morning. You may go."
The slow, cool words had told. He tried to preserve his confident front,
as he turned to the door. He would have left his banner on the field but
for the oldest director, who had too long been silent.
"Snake in the grass!" hissed the oldest director, and instantly the
colours waved again from Bean's lifted standard. He did not like the
oldest director and he soared into the pure ether of verbal felicity,
forgetful of all threats.
He stared pityingly at the speaker a moment, then cruelly said:
"You know they quit putting perfumery on their clothes right after the
Chicago fire."
He left the room with faultless dignity.
"_Im_pertinent young whelp!" spluttered the oldest director; but his
first fellow-director who dared to look at him saw that he was gazing
pensively from the high window, his back to the group.
"No good," said the quiet director to the largest. "A little man's
always the hardest to bluff. Bet I could bluff you quicker than you
could bluff him!"
"Well, I didn't know what else," answered the largest director, who was
already feeling bluffed.
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