Murray laughed when Tucker had gone. The man’s indignation had been momentarily irritating, but there was something amusing about it, too.
“He’s going to live to a green old age, just to spite the company,” mused Murray. “It’s a matter of no great personal interest to him, but he’d like to make the company feel bad. If a man could order his life as he can his business affairs, there would be mighty little chance for us.”
Meanwhile, Tucker was hastening to the home of Miss Frances Greer.
“I’ve come to release you,” he announced cheerfully.
“But I don’t want to be released,” she returned.
“Of course not,” he said. “I didn’t suppose you would. But you might just as well know that you’re getting a poor risk.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“Why, I wanted to put fifty thousand dollars on my life, as a precaution for the future, and the fool of an insurance doctor turned me down.”
“What do I care about the doctor!” she exclaimed.
“Not a thing, of course.”