“Why, yes,” said the lawyer, staring at his client. “I suppose I should say that something had happened under those circumstances. But have you any clue to the robbery?”
“Clue! Clue!” retorted the banker, with his habit of repeating words. “Certainly not. How could you expect me to have a clue in a town like this? The police officials are no good, never were any good, and never will be any good.”
“But have you any hope of recovering your money?”
“Hope? Certainly I have hope. I am going to recover that money if it costs every other cent that I have in the world. I don’t propose to sit down like a lamb and be fleeced. Do you think that I am that kind of a man? Do you?”
“No,” said the lawyer, “I do not. I am very sorry to hear about your loss; but I don’t suppose there is any use crying over spilt milk.”
“Spilt milk! What do you mean by that? How can you talk about a large amount of money as if it were spilt milk? What do you mean anyhow?”
“Oh,” said the lawyer, “that was simply a little illustration of mine. You see the moral is a good one.”
“Hump! I don’t think it’s good at all, and I don’t like to hear you talk in that way.” Then after a momentary pause, “But what is it you want? Why did you come here?”
“I came with some good news,” said the lawyer. “David Harkins called on me this morning and paid off that note of a thousand dollars, and I have brought the money to you.”
The crafty face of the banker lighted up with surprise at this announcement. It was so unexpected that he hardly knew what to say in reply. Finally he managed to remark: