"This must be the cheque," said Ronnie. He looked at the oblong slip and tore it into four pieces before he dropped the scraps into the waste basket.
Steppe was purple with rage, inarticulate.
Then the transfer followed the cheque.
"Don't let us have a scene," said Dr. Merville nervously. "You must meet Steppe in this, Ronnie."
"I'll meet him with pleasure. I have a thousand shares apparently; he wants them—good! He can pay me the market price."
"You dog!" howled Steppe, his face thrust across the table until it was within a few inches of Ronnie's, "you damned swindler! You're going straight to the office of the Klein River Company and sign another transfer. D'ye hear?"
"How could I not hear," said Ronnie, getting up, "as to signing the transfer, I will do so, on terms—if you are civil."
"If I'm civil, huh? If I'm civil! I'll break you, Morelle! I'll break you! There's a little document in my safe that would get you five years. That makes you look foolish!"
"Take it out of your safe," said Ronnie coolly, "which I understand the police have. They will be glad to see it opened. I could open it myself if—if I could only remember. I've tried. When I saw a paragraph in the paper about Moropulos, it made me shiver—because I knew I could open the safe. I sat up all one night trying to get the word."
"You're a liar—the same damned liar that you've always been! I want that transfer, Morelle. I'm through with you—after your appearance in the police court. You're a damned fine asset to a company! You and your Lola! You will resign from the board of my companies. Get that! And whilst I'm dealing with you, I'd like to tell you that if you attack my stocks, I'll attack you in a way that will make hell a cosy corner, huh?"