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Wentz cursed the Fate that had promoted him from his washing machine, and this was one of them. Neifkins, hunched in a leather chair in the banker's office, had an obstinate look on his sunburned face. "I'd give about half I'm worth if that was your stock goin' out," said Wentz, as he reseated himself at his desk. Neifkins grunted. "I heard you the first time you said that."
It was the courage of desperation which ultimately sent Neifkins out in an attempt to get hay to his sheep.
The bookkeeper said, "Well!" with much significance, but it remained for Mrs. Neifkins to give the real offense. The expression on her vapid face implied that she was aghast at their impudence. Gathering the fullness of her skirt as though to withdraw it from contamination she laid the other hand on her husband's arm: "There's a place over there, Myron, where we can get in."
"It would take almost the two bands at present to pay off the debt and shipping expenses." "That's not our funeral." "And the leases are of no value without stock for them." Mr. Wentz lowered his silken lashes and suggested smoothly as he continued to caress the treasured growth gently: "Neifkins might be induced to take the leases off your hands at a nominal figure." Mr.
"Isn't there some other way some concession that we can make?" Wentz did not breathe, in the tense moment that she seemed to hesitate. "Yes," she flashed, "there is one way to save your bank; turn over to me your and Neifkins' stock, which will give me the control." Wentz stood mute. She demanded imperiously: "Yes or no?" "You you would retain me as president?" he asked, heavily.
This perversion of his name had darkened his childhood days and he never had outgrown his antipathy to it. "I think," Toomey went on, "that you're shaky as the devil that Neifkins' big loss put such a crimp in you that an honest bank examiner could close your doors! I'll bet my hat against a white chip that even a boys'-size 'run' could shut your little two by twice bank up tight as a drum!"
Of its kind, it was as thrilling a moment as Prouty had experienced. Mrs. Myron Neifkins had recognized Kate immediately and passed the word along to Mrs. Pantin who, although a comparative stranger, had been properly supplied with information as to the community's undesirables.
Kate was an unconscionable time in dressing, Hugh thought, as he waited in the office, considering that the flour sack tied behind her saddle had seemed to contain her wardrobe easily enough. His attention was focused upon Mrs. Neifkins, whom he had last seen in a wrapper and slat sunbonnet, when a lull in the hubbub that became a hush caused him to look up.
The stubborn look on his face increased. "When I'm ready to ship, I'll ship. I know what I'm about ME." Wentz did not look impressed by the boast. Neifkins added in a surly tone: "I don't need no petticoat to show me how to handle sheep." Wentz answered with a shrug: "Looks to me like you might follow a worse lead.
"But you've never had so much at stake. You've got us to consider " "Don't you fret!" Neifkins interrupted impatiently. "You've worried until you're all worked up over somethin' that hasn't happened and ain't goin' to." With this assurance, which left no comfort in its wake, Neifkins went out where the first icy blast of the predicted blizzard lifted his hat and whisked it down the street.
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