“Not to-day,” Judith stopped at the stairs. “I can’t wait for the elevator; it’s only a few flights, so good-by.” And waving her hand, she almost ran down the steps.
As Latimer reëntered his private office he found his head clerk standing by his desk with a number of papers in his hand.
“These bonds have just been offered,” he explained, extending the papers and Latimer glanced at them. The next second he snatched up his memorandum pad and compared the figures noted thereon with the numbers engraved on the Troy Valve bonds—37982. With quickened interest Latimer turned over the bonds—each of the ten numbers tallied with those on the memorandum pad.
“Where did you get these Valve bonds?” he demanded.
“One of our new customers—I forget his name—has just sold them to cover his margins.”
Latimer stared at his clerk. “Is the customer still here?”
“Yes, sir; at least he was a few minutes ago.”
Latimer strode to the outer office door and opened it slightly; over a dozen men and women were grouped about the ticker at the other end of the room.
“Which is the customer?” he demanded, keeping his voice low.
The clerk peered over his shoulder.