Mr. Tutt took it gingerly between his thumb and forefinger. It was
signed ALFRED HAYNES BADGER, Pres., and he had an almost irresistible
temptation to twist it into a spill and light a stogy with it. But he
used a match instead, while Mrs. Effingham watched him apprehensively.
Then he handed the stock back to her and poured out another glass of
toddy.
"Ever been in Mr. Badger's office?"
"Oh, yes!" she answered. "It's a lovely office. You can see 'way down
the harbor--and over to New Jersey. It's real elegant."
"Would you mind going there again? That is, are you on friendly terms
with him?"
Already a strange, rather desperate plan was half formulated in his
mind.
"Oh, we're perfectly friendly," she smiled. "I generally go down there
to get my check."
"Whose check is it--his or the company's?"
"I really don't know," she answered simply. "What difference would it
make?"
"Oh, nothing--except that he might claim that he'd loaned you the
money."
"Loaned it? To me?"
"Why, yes. One hears of such things."
"But it is my money!" she cried, stiffening.
"You paid that for the stock."
She shook her head helplessly.
"I don't understand these things," she murmured. "If Jim had been alive
it wouldn't have happened. He was so careful."
"Husbands have some uses occasionally."
Suddenly she put her hands to her face.
"Oh, Mr. Tutt! Please get the money back from him.
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