“What's the meaning of that?” he demanded.
John was perfectly calm. “Sit down, Mr. Kendrick,” he said.
“No, I won't sit down. What the devil do you mean by sending me that thing? You expected me, didn't you? You got my wire saying I was coming.”
“Yes, I got it. Sit down. I have a good deal to say and it may take some time. Throw off your coat.”
E. Holliday threw the fur coat open, but he did not remove it. He jerked a chair forward and seated himself upon it.
“Now what does that thing mean?” he demanded, pointing to the envelope he had tossed on the desk.
John picked up the envelope and opened it. A letter and a bank check fell out.
“I will explain,” he said quietly. “Mr. Kendrick, you know Captain Obed Bangs, I think. Oh, it is all right. The captain is here at my request. I asked him to be here. I wanted a reliable witness and he is reliable. This,” he went on, taking up the letter, “is a note I wrote you, Mr. Kendrick. It states that I am resigning my position as your attorney. And this,” picking up the other paper, “is my check for five hundred dollars, the amount of your retainer, which I am returning to you. . . . You understand this so far, Captain?”
E. Holliday did not wait to hear whether the captain understood or not. His big face flamed red.
“But what the devil?” he demanded.