“Huh!” he exclaimed gruffly. “I've seen them go up pretty easy.”
Mary met the assertion with a serenity that was baffling.
“The poor ones,” she vouchsafed; “not those that have money. I have money, plenty of money—now.”
“Money you stole!” the Inspector returned, brutally.
“Oh, dear, no!” Mary cried, with a fine show of virtuous indignation.
“What about the thirty thousand dollars you got on that partnership swindle?” Burke asked, sneering. “I s'pose you didn't steal that!”
“Certainly not,” was the ready reply. “The man advertised for a partner in a business sure to bring big and safe returns. I answered. The business proposed was to buy a tract of land, and subdivide it. The deeds to the land were all forged, and the supposed seller was his confederate, with whom he was to divide the money. We formed a partnership, with a capital of sixty thousand dollars. We paid the money into the bank, and then at once I drew it out. You see, he wanted to get my money illegally, but instead I managed to get his legally. For it was legal for me to draw that money—wasn't it, Mr. Demarest?”
The District Attorney by an effort retained his severe expression of righteous disapprobation, but he admitted the truth of her contention.
“Unfortunately, yes,” he said gravely. “A partner has the right to draw out any, or all, of the partnership funds.”
“And I was a partner,” Mary said contentedly. “You, see, Inspector, you wrong me—you do, really! I'm not a swindler; I'm a financier.”