"Confound you!" he growled. "I stalled you until five minutes before
the bank closed, thinking you would deposit it in your own bank
to-morrow morning and I'd have a deposit to cover it by that time. It
will be all right first thing in the morning, Peasley."
"It had better be!" Matt told him bluntly. "Your charter provides for
cancellation in the event that payments are not made as stipulated,
and I'm not in a position to carry you or to take any chances on
you--and I'm not going to."
"I can't blame you a bit," Kelton answered regretfully. "I tell you,
with the money market as tight as it is, we're beating the devil round
the stump these days. Confound it, Peasley, a man has to do some
scheming and stalling when everybody is crowding him for money,
doesn't he?"
The check was not paid when Matt presented it the next morning. As he
came out of the bank a newsboy, crying his daily sensation, accosted
him with the first afternoon edition, and Matt's glance caught a smear
of red ink seven columns wide across the front page:
SHIPPING MAN A SUICIDE!
It was Morrow!
For about a minute Matt Peasley stood on the corner, doing some of the
fastest thinking he had ever done. Morrow had taken a short cut out
of his financial worries, and Matt realized that the tragedy would
undoubtedly bring an avalanche of creditors down on the unhappy Kelton
and ruin the firm.
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