Page:Wilson - Bunker bean.djvu/243

Rh 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