"Don't go," Gray said, as Briskow unfolded his legs and rose.

But the president of the Security National shook his head, saying: "Bookkeepin' is all Choctaw to me. I saw one statement an' I thought 'liquid a.s.sets' meant that bottle of whisky Bell left in his desk."

"Mr. Gray," the auditor announced, when they were alone, "I wish you'd ask somebody else to take this job off my hands."

"Why?"

"Well, somebody else could probably do it better." There was a pause.

"I've known Bell Nelson all my life--"

"That is why I engaged you. You've been over these books before." Again there was an instant of silence, then into Gray's face there flashed a curious alertness. "Come!" he cried, sharply. "What is it?"

"I'm sorry to be the one to--" The auditor shrugged. "If you insist on an explanation, I suppose I shall have to tell you. Perhaps it's just as well, anyhow. They say figures don't lie, but you and I know better.

I only wish they didn't."

"Have you caught them lying, here?"

"I have. And--it has made me rather ill. You'd better prepare yourself for a shock."

It was nearly an hour later that Gray telephoned to Senator Lowe, the bank's attorney, and to Bennett Swope, the latter being the only member of the board available at short notice. This done, he wrote a note to Henry Nelson. In spite of his effort to control his hand, it shook when he signed his name, and on second thought he destroyed the missive.

There is something ominous about the written word. If Nelson grew suspicious, he'd never come.

Gray stepped into Gus Briskow's office and asked him to call the former vice-president, first, however, explaining exactly what he wished Gus to say. The ruse succeeded; then Gray returned to his own office. He drew a deep breath. Within him he felt a ferocious eagerness take fire, for it seemed to him that the day of reckoning had come. Henry's behavior was now easily understandable; the fellow was cringing, cowering in antic.i.p.ation of a second blow. Well, the whip was in Gray's hands, and he proposed to use it ruthlessly--to sink the lash, to cut to the bone, to leave scars such as Henry had left upon him. Nor was that his only weapon. There was, for instance, Old Bell Nelson's honor.

If coercion failed, there were rewards, inducements. Oh, Henry would have to speak! The Nelson fortune, or what remained for salvage from the wreck thereof, the bank itself, they were p.a.w.ns which Gray could, and would, sacrifice, if necessary. His hunger for a sight of "Bob" had become unbearable. Freedom to declare his overwhelming love--and that love he knew was no immature infatuation, but the deep-set pa.s.sion of a full-grown man--was worth any price he might be called upon to pay.

Yes, Henry would speak the truth to-day or--for one of them, at least, there would be an end to the feud.

Gray, too, kept a revolver in his desk. He removed it and placed it in his pocket.

Buddy Briskow chose this, of all moments, to thrust his grinning visage into the door and to inquire, "Got time for me now, Mr. Gray?"

"Not now, Buddy."

"When?"

"Why--almost any other time."

"I wouldn't bother you, but it's important and I--I promised a certain party--" The youth's face reddened, his smile widened vacuously.

"Later, if you don't mind."

It was plain that Buddy did mind; nevertheless, he withdrew.

When Swope and Lowe arrived, Gray could with difficulty restrain himself from blurting out the reason for his urgent summons, but he contented himself by asking them to wait in the president's office.

Henry Nelson entered the bank with his head up, with a contemptuous smile upon his lips and an easy confidence in his bearing. His hand was outstretched toward the k.n.o.b of Briskow's door, when the one adjoining opened and, from the office he himself had so long occupied, Calvin Gray spoke to him.

"Please step in here, Colonel."

Nelson recoiled. "No, thank you!" he said, curtly.

"Briskow and I are amateur bankers; there is a matter upon which we need your advice."

"Indeed? Finding it isn't as easy to run a bank as a drilling rig? He said you were out, otherwise--"

"Will you come in?"

Stiffly, reluctantly, as if impelled by some force outside of himself, Nelson stepped within, but he ignored the chair that was proffered him.

Gray closed the door before saying: "The deception was mine, not Briskow's. You prefer to stand? Um-m--I appreciate your feeling of formality. I felt a bit ill at ease on the occasion of my first call here, when our positions were reversed--"

"If you got me here just to be nasty--"

"By no means. Nevertheless, it gratifies my vanity to remind you that you considered me a braggart, a bluffer, whereas--"

"I haven't changed my opinion."

"So be it. One matter, only, remains between us. I am about to ring up on the last act of our little comedy."

"Theatrical, as always, aren't you?" Nelson's lip curled.

For a moment Gray stared at the speaker curiously; his tone had altered when he said: "You're a better poker player than I thought. You're almost as good a bluffer as I am. That, by the way, is probably the last compliment I shall pay you."

"Come! I've no time to waste."

"You will soon have ample time--if not to waste, at least to meditate--"

"What do you mean by that?" The query came sharply.

"I've had an examination of the bank's books. That, as you will readily understand, explains why I sent for you."

"Why--no. I don't--"

"I wondered how you and your father got the money to keep going so long, for I discovered you were in a bad way even before I turned up.

It is no longer a mystery. When you and he, as directors of the Security National, lent yourselves money, as individuals, you must have realized that you were--well, arranging ample leisure for yourselves in which to meditate upon the stringency of the banking laws--"

"Nonsense! That's n-nothing--nothing serious." Nelson's ruddy color had slowly vanished; with uncertain hand he reached for the nearest chair, and upon it he leaned as he continued, jerkily: "Irregular, perhaps--I'll admit it was irregular, but--there's nothing _wrong_--Oh, you'll make it look as bad as possible, I dare say! But you don't understand the circ.u.mstances. Anyhow, father is getting it straightened out; all he needs is time. We'll be able to handle it, all right. We're good, you know, perfectly good--"

"You're broke! Everybody else knows it, if you don't. '_Irregular_'!

Ha! There's a choice of words!" The speaker laughed silently. "It is an 'irregularity' that carries with it free board and lodging at the state's expense."

An incoherent protest issued from Nelson's throat. When next he managed to make himself audible, his words were such as really to amaze his hearer. "_I_ didn't do it," he cried, in a panic-stricken voice. "It was father's idea! You had us crowded--there was no other way. I warned him--"

"Wait a minute! You blame it on _him_?" Gray's inquiry was harsh, incredulous. After a momentary pause his lips moved, but for once he stammered, his ready tongue refused its duty. He exploded, finally, with an oath; he jerked open a drawer in his desk. From his pocket he removed his revolver, flung it inside, then jammed the drawer back into place with a crash. "You--_rat_!" he exclaimed. He turned his back upon Henry Nelson and made a circuit of the little room.

"It's a thing you and I can easily fix up," the latter feebly insisted.

"Now that personal matter of yours--Perhaps I could help you reopen it somehow, clear it up."

"Ah! Indeed!"