Page:Tongues of Flame (1924).pdf/133

 quick. Take it out there—twenty one-thousand dollar bills. Shake it in his face! He can't resist the sight of money. No Indian can. No white man can for that matter. My God, Harrington!" Quackenbaugh's lean and leathery face was tense and stern; his long squirrel tecth bit out his nervous speech. "This is important! Get that Siwash closed up and out of the way before Hornblower or some other crook gets hold of him."

Henry was assenting but thoughtful. "Paper money never looks much to an Indian," he reflected; "if it was gold—if I could pile up the gold—glittering before his eyes, it might win him."

"Well, take gold, then!" exclaimed Quackenbaugh with nervous eagerness; "that is, if there's twenty thousand gold in Gaylord's vaults since they don't circulate it any more. Most likely there is, though, if we want it. There's most anything in the town if we want it, eh, Henry?" And he reached for the telephone. This was the first time Mr. Quackenbaugh had called him Henry; and that young man might be pardoned for a sense of satisfaction in finding himself so cordially received and trusted by so eminent a member of that charmed circle of the Boland executives.

"Got twenty thousand dollars in gold twenties down there, Gaylord?"

"Just happen to have—owing to a whim of Mr. Boland's, yes." Gaylord was President of the First National but Mr. Boland was chairman of its board.

"I want it," said Quackenbaugh. "What's it weigh—that much coin?"

"About sixty-eight pounds," answered the banker after swift calculation.