Young McCann told
his tale hesitatingly.
"Who did you say you sold to?" demanded Crane.
"Fat man by the name of Baines."
"Baines! He's busted. Hasn't a cent."
"Paid cash."
Crane looked at Keith and Keith looked at Crane. Just then the telephone
rang. It was Scattergood.
"Want to speak to Mr. Crane," he said.
"Hello!" Crane said, gruffly. "What's this about your buying pulp
company stock?"
"Bought some. Bought a little. Called up to see why your young man
wasn't deliverin'. Want to git home."
"Where did you get the money?"
"Have to know that? Have to know where it come from before you kin make
delivery? Hain't inquisitive, be you?"
Mr. Crane made use of language. "I want to see you--got to have a talk.
Come right down here."
"Jest been measurin'," said Scattergood, "and I figger it's a mite
longer from here to there than it is from there to here. If you want to
see me, here I be."
"Where?"
Scattergood gave an office address and hung up the receiver.
"They'll be here in a minnit," he said to Mr. Linderman, and he was not
exaggerating greatly as to the time required to bring the gentlemen to
him.
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