"No, thanks," replied Mr. Bennington curtly.
Suddenly he turned square around.
"Let's get down to business, Mr. Underwood," he exclaimed. "My firm insists on the immediate return of their property." Pointing around the room, he added: "Everything, do you understand?"
Underwood was standing in the shadow of the lamp so his visitor did not notice that he had grown suddenly very white, and that his mouth twitched painfully.
"Why, what's the trouble?" he stammered. "Haven't you done a lot of business through me? Haven't I got prices for your people that they would never have gotten?"
"Yes—we know all that," replied Mr. Bennington impatiently. "To be frank, Mr. Underwood, we've received information that you've sold many of the valuable articles entrusted to you for which you've made no accounting at all."
"That's not true," exclaimed Underwood hotly. "I have accounted for almost everything. The rest of the things are here. Of course, there may be a few things——"
Taking a box of cigars from the desk, he offered it to his visitor.
"No, thanks," replied Bennington coldly, pushing back the proffered box.
Underwood was fast losing his self-control. Throwing away his cigar with an angry exclamation, he began to walk up and down.