I did not move.
“Are you going to do as I tell you?” he demanded. “Mind, I'm telling you this for your own good. Will you clear out and leave me?”
I smiled. “Of course not,” I answered.
“Don't be a fool. You can't afford to be my friend. Clear out and leave me, do you hear?”
“I hear. Now, George, what is it?”
His fingers tapped the table. I could see he was making up his mind.
“You want to know?” he said. “You won't be satisfied until you do?”
“I have made that fairly plain, I hope. At least I've tried to.”
His fist clenched and he struck the table.
“Then, by the Almighty, I'll tell you!” he cried, fiercely. “It'll be all over the county in a week. You might as well know it now. I'm a crook. I'm a thief. I've stolen money from this bank and I can't pay it back because I haven't got it and can't get it. I'm a crook, I tell you, and in a week or so it'll be the county jail for mine. Unless—unless,” with a significant glance at the drawer, “something else happens to me in the meantime. There; now you know. Are you satisfied? Are you happy because you've found out?”