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 as he struggled to speak; then words came in a torrent, jumbled, incoherent, passionate. He raved. Angus waited phlegmatically for the outburst to wear itself out…. Presently Crane found a measure of self-restraint. His spontaneous invective became forced and studied. “How dare you? How dare you order me to see you—as if I were a clerk? What do you mean by it, you—you—”

“Sit down, Judge,” said Angus. “We may be a long time.”

“Sit down! You impertinent—”

“I am trying to find some way out—for you,” Angus said. “Because Mr. Woodhouse would want me to…. You are bankrupt. There is no oil….”

“No oil. What are you talking about? Who told you that cock-and-bull story?”

“There is no oil,” Angus said. “You have lost every cent you have in the world. That is your business. Where Mr. Woodhouse will be interested is—is the other part of it.”

“What other part? What are you talking about?”

“The embezzlement part,” Angus said baldly.

Crane’s eyes widened, glared with a light akin to insanity. His face went dead white, and for an instant he seemed to be paralyzed in all his members. He struggled to speak, but no sounds