He clapped on his hat and turned to the door just as it opened upon Eaton.
“I’ll look in again in the morning, Copeland,” said Eichberg in a loud tone. “You just think over that matter, and I guess you’ll see it my way.”
“Never put off till to-morrow what you can do to-day,” remarked Eaton, projecting himself into the office. “I’ll close the door if you don’t mind, Copeland. And, Mr. Eichberg, please wait a moment.”
“If you’re his lawyer, you don’t want me here. I’ve said all I’ve got to say to Copeland,” Eichberg answered. But he waited, glowering at Eaton, who removed his overcoat, placed it carefully on a chair, and began drawing off his gloves.
“Mr. Eichberg, they told me a moment ago at the Western National that certain stock held as collateral for maturing Copeland-Farley notes had been bought by you. Is that true?”
“That’s correct! I guess it was all regular,” Eichberg snapped.
“We’ll come to that presently. You have now in your possession through that purchase fourteen hundred and eighty-five shares of stock?”
“Right!” ejaculated Eichberg loudly.
Eaton raised his hand, glanced intently at the palm, and then, with one of his familiar tricks, bent his gaze directly upon Eichberg.
“Being a competitor of Copeland-Farley and a director of the bank, you have naturally—quite naturally—thought it would be a good investment to own a large block of the stock? And it undoubtedly occurred to you that a combination of Copeland-Farley with Corbin & Eichberg would be highly advantageous? In fact, you thought you had more stock than Copeland owns, and that you could come in here and discharge him like a drayman!”