He and Blaxham had spent considerable time on that letter, trying to explain the reason for the purchase, and the foolishly high price they were offering, in such a way as to mislead Croyden.
“Yes,—aloud! I want to hear someone else read it.”
Macloud looked at him, curiously.
“It is typewritten, you haven’t a chance to get wrong!” he said, wonderingly.
Croyden laughed!
“Read it, please!” he exclaimed.... “So, I wasn’t crazy: and either Blaxham is lying or his customer needs a guardian—which is it?”
“I don’t see that it need concern you, in the least, which it is,” said Macloud. “Be grateful for 221 the offer—and accept by wireless or any other way that’s quicker.”
“But the bonds aren’t worth five cents on the dollar!”
“So much the more reason to hustle the deal through. Sell them! man, sell them! You may have slipped up on the Parmenter treasure, but you have struck it here.”
“Too rich,” Croyden answered. “There’s something queer about that letter.”