"Even your judgment is not infallible, you mean?"
"Exactly."
"So do I believe in him," Perkins said.
"I couldn't offend him for the world," McLaughlin went on. "He's as sensitive as a cat's tail. I would n't even dare to go into that cage of his." McLaughlin paused, "Yet we've got to do something. We can't wait till summer when he goes on his vacation. All kinds of things might happen before then. Time and Wall Street don't wait for anybody—except magnates!"
"You mean, have an expert accountant go over his books?" said Perkins.
"Certainly, that's what I mean—that's what you mean—that's what's been in both our minds from the time he began to travel with that Pullman crowd."
"It ought to be done at once," said Perkins. "If things are not regular—well, we must protect ourselves. I'm puzzled how to get rid of him while we're doing it. It's a delicate business," Perkins urged.
"I've got that all figured out, Perk." McLaughlin paused to register the comedy line that was to follow. "I'm going to send Skinner to St. Paul—after Willard Jackson!"
The partners were silent for a few moments; then Perkins said, "You can't, Mac."
"Why not?"