“Storm, I knew your father well. We both started here away down on the lowest rung of the ladder, and although he soon branched out into a wider, less conservative field we never allowed our friendship to flag. It was on his account that we took you, and because of his memory you were given preference over more experienced men.”
He paused and Storm stiffened, but he replied warily:
“I am aware of that, Mr. Langhorne. I hope that I have executed my duties——”
Langhorne waved him to silence.
“I have no complaint to make. I sent for you because my personal interest in you as the son of my old friend has caused me a certain amount of disquietude. When you came to me a fortnight ago and requested that I arrange an immediate mortgage on your suburban property I waived the usual procedure and complied at once. It was not my province to question your need or use of the money, although I knew of your previous unfortunate ventures, and I hoped that you had not again been ill-advised.
“A week later—ten days ago, to be exact—you came to me and mentioned a person named Du Chainat, whom you said had been in negotiation with Mr. Whitmarsh. This Du Chainat, or rather the man impersonating him, has been exposed as a swindler on a rather large scale. I trust that you yourself did not fall a victim to him?”
Storm’s eyes flashed, but he held himself rigidly in control. Bleat to this fathead and give him an opportunity to gloat? He would see him damned first!
“Hardly, Mr. Langhorne.” He allowed the ghost of a smile to lift the corners of his mouth. “The investment I had in mind was quite another sort.”
Langhorne frowned doubtfully.
“You appeared to take it for granted that I knew this Du Chainat. May I ask what your motive was in mentioning him to me?”