"Know Mr. Linderman--Crane and Keith?" said Scattergood. "Come in
and set."
"What do you want with pulp company stock?" Crane demanded.
"Paper the kitchen. Maybe, if I kin git enough, I'll paper the parlor.
Lack five hunderd shares for the parlor. Got'em with you?"
"No, and we're not going to get them."
"Um!... Paid for 'em, didn't I? Got a receipt?"
"What's Linderman doing in this?"
Mr. Linderman leaned forward a little. "I'm in a legitimate business
transaction--something quite foreign to you gentlemen's notions of doing
business. I came into it to make a profit, but mostly to teach you
fellows a lesson in decent business methods. I don't like you. I don't
like your ways. If you like your ways you must expect to pay for the
pleasure you get out of them.... Mr. Baines is waiting for delivery of
the stock he bought."
"I suppose you know we haven't got it?"
"I do."
"We can't deliver."
"Yes, you can. Go out in the open market and buy. Now, I own a few
shares, for instance. I might sell."
The faces of Messrs. Crane and Keith did not picture lively enjoyment.
They were caught. If it had been Scattergood alone they might have
wriggled out of it, they thought, for they had scant respect for his
sagacity, but Linderman--well, Linderman was not to be trifled with.
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