“We’ve made a mistake,” he squeaked. “This young Wallingford is a hustler, and he’s doing some canvassing himself. In the past week he’s taken at least forty members for his loan company, and every man Jack of them are old members of ours.”
Doc Turner began rubbing his frosted hands together at a furious rate.
“Squinch has sold us out!” he charged. “He’s let Wallingford copy that list on the sly!”
“No, I don’t think so,” said Grout, more lugubrious than ever. “I made some inquiries. You know, a lot of these fellows are customers of mine, and I find that he just happened to land on some of them in the first place. One recommends him to the others, just as we got them. If we don’t sell him that list right away he won’t need it.”
Together they went to Squinch and explained the matter, very much to that gentleman’s discomfiture and even agitation.
“What’s his plan of operation, anyhow?” complained Squinch.
“I don’t understand it,” returned Andy. “I found out this much, though: the members all expect to get rich as soon as the company starts operating.”
Mr. Squinch pounded his long finger-tips together for some time while he pondered the matter.
“It might be worth while to have a share or two of stock in his company, merely to find out his complete plan,” he sagely concluded. “If he’s getting members that easy it’s quite evident there is some good money to be made on the inside.”
This was the unanimous opinion of the entire five members of the board of directors, and as each member was in positive pain on the subject of “good money on the inside,” they called a meeting that very afternoon in Mr. Squinch’s office, inviting Mr. Wallingford to attend, which he did with inward alacrity but outward indifference.