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"I'd ruther take a lickin' than to say it, but I reckon you'll have to come along with me, Bertie," he began soberly, laying a big-knuckled hand on my shoulder. "It all came out in the meetin' to-day, and the d'rectors 're sayin' that you hadn't ort to be allowed to run loose any longer." The high desk stool was where I could grab at it, and it saved me from tumbling over backward. "Go with you?"
"How should I know?" retorted Bob; "you don't suppose that the d'rectors is all my partikler friends, do you? There's only two or three of 'em as has the honer of my acquaintance."
Two of the d'rectors, Tom Fitch and old man Withers, was settin' behind the window curtains in the front room whilst you was talkin' to Miss Agathy on the porch. You know, better'n I do, what they heard you say." For a second the familiar interior of the bank went black for me.
At what he judged to be four-thirty a spirited rap sounded on the door. "C'min," yelled Breede. Entered the flapper. Breede looked up. "Seddown! View of efforts bein' made b' cert'n parties t' s'cure 'trol of comp'ny by promise of creatin' stock script on div'dend basis, it is proper f'r d'rectors t' state policy has been " The flapper had sat down and was looking intently at Bean.
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