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Updated: June 16, 2025
James appeared like magic with a tray, glasses, and tiny serviettes, and the Colonel's elixir was passed to the company. "To your beautiful eyes, Mrs. Poundstone," was Pennington's debonair toast as he fixed Mrs. P.'s green orbs with his own. "Poundstone, your very good health, sir." "Dee-licious," murmured Mrs. Poundstone. "Perfectly dee-licious. And not a bit strong!"
At eleven-thirty Thursday morning, therefore, young Henry Poundstone, having worked the greater part of the previous night preparing the deeds, delivered both deeds and franchise to Buck Ogilvy at the latter's hotel. It was with difficulty that the latter could conceal his tremendous amazement when Henry casually handed him the franchise.
He then returned to the Hotel Sequoia and sat in the lobby until handed a telegram at 4:40; whereupon he entered the telephone-booth and talked to someone, emerging at 4:43 to go to his room. He returned at 4:46 and hurried to the law-office of Henry Poundstone, Junior, in the Cardigan Block.
"But unfortunately I have had so much preliminary detail to attend to before making an official call that at last I grew discouraged and concluded I'd just drop in informally and get acquainted." Buck's alert blue eyes opened wide in sympathy with his genial mouth, to deluge Mayor Poundstone with a smile that was friendly, guileless, confidential, and singularly delightful. Mr.
However," he went on after a slight pause, "you're not in politics for your health; so let's get down to brass tacks. How much do you want to deny the N.C.O. not only an extension of that temporary franchise but also a permanent franchise when they apply for it?" Poundstone rose with great dignity. "Colonel Pennington, sir," he said, "you insult me." "Sit down.
Send the switch-engine and a couple of flats up for them. Phone Poundstone. Tell him to have the chief of police " Bryce Cardigan's great hand closed over the Colonel's neck, while down Water Street a dark streak that was Buck Ogilvy sped toward the automobile, intending to climb in and make Pennington's manager a prisoner also. He was too late, however.
He was with Poundstone until 4:59, when he returned leisurely to the Hotel Sequoia, carrying a small leather grip. He also had this grip when he entered Poundstone's office. Arrived at the hotel at 5:03 and went to his room. At 6:45 he entered a public automobile in front of the hotel and was driven to No. 846 Elm Street.
"Ogilvy did business with you through your son Henry," he challenged. Poundstone started violently. "How much did Henry get out of it?" Pennington continued brutally. "Two hundred and fifty dollars retainer, and not a cent more," Poundstone protested virtuously and truthfully.
"I'm afraid that would be a long, hard row to hoe, my dear, and of course, I shall have to defend myself." "In addition," the girl went on quietly, "the county grand jury shall be furnished with a stenographic report of your conversation of Thursday night with Mayor Poundstone.
When he could control his emotions, Mr. Ogilvy gazed approvingly upon Henry Poundstone. "Mr. Poundstone," he said solemnly, "I have met some meteoric young attorneys in my day, but you're the first genuine comet I have seen in the legal firmament. Do you mind telling me exactly how you procured this franchise and why you procured it without explicit orders from me?"
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