"And now you know, Mr. Weldon?" he repeated quietly. "You surprise me. What do you know?"
Weldon smiled approvingly at him. There was stuff in this babbler, this hypnotist, this phrase-maker.
"I know that one of the cleverest frauds in the history of banking has been accomplished in this bank, Mr. Deeping, and I know by whom and how it has been accomplished. I know how Mr. Bingham has been used in the matter and how ignorant he is of the tool he has been. I know how completely the directors have been deceived and how ably the books have been doctored. I know precisely where the discrepancies are and how great they are."
"You have been very diligent, Mr. Weldon," said the president gently. "I presume you to have the proofs of all you assert?"
Weldon put his hand into an inner pocket and drew out a slip—a small slip—of paper.
"You must, of course, have a memorandum by which to check this," he said a little huskily, but meeting the older man's eyes steadily, "so I made it as condensed as possible. You will understand it, however, I am sure."
Without a moment's hesitation the president put out his hand and took the slip. Weldon touched his thumb and it was like an icicle. For a brief space he studied the close, tiny figures, then he raised his eyes from them.
"You are to be congratulated, young man," he said, pausing slightly between his words, "on the possession of a very keen mind and abilities far from ordinary. I believe you said you had no assistance in all this?"
"I did not say so," Weldon replied, "but it is true."
"And no confidants, I infer?"