But she showed no inclination to go. She was exhibiting something like a desperate resolve. “Will you please shut the door, Mr. Starr?”
He obeyed.
“It's in regard to those disks! They are coat weights!”
Starr fished out his souvenir once more and inspected it; his face showed that he had not been illuminated especially.
“Women understand such things better than men, of course,” she went on. “Dressmakers stitch those weights into the lower edges of women's suit coats to make the fabric drape properly and hang without wrinkling.”
“You're a woman and you probably know what you're talking about on that line,” admitted the examiner. “But because you're a woman I don't suppose you can tell me how coat weights happen to be the main cash assets of this bank!” Mr. Starr's manner expressed fully his contemptuous convictions on that point.
“I certainly cannot say how those weights happen to be in the bank, sir. But I feel that this is the time for everybody in our town to give in every bit of information that will help to clear up this terrible thing. I'm taking that attitude for myself, Mr. Starr, and I hope that all others are going to be as frank.” She gave President Britt a fearless stare of challenge. “My father has recently had a great deal of new courage about some of the inventions he hopes to put through. He has told me that Mr. Britt is backing him financially.”
“Your father is everlastingly shinning up a moonbeam, and you know it,” declared Britt.
Starr shook his hand, pinching the disk between thumb and forefinger. “Young woman, I'm interested only in this, if you have any information to give me in regard to it.”
Vaniman was displaying an interest of his own that was but little short of amazement.