“But——”
“Let’s lose no time in speculating upon it, however, for time is valuable. We can quickly learn the truth. Have the balance sheet brought in, Mr. Madden, while you, Mr. Mellen, bring the securities from the vault. We can conduct these investigations quietly and without informing your clerks. That must be avoided for the present.”
Chick Carter’s instructions now were hurriedly followed. The result of the examination, moreover, fully confirmed his suspicions.
David Mack was found to be short in his accounts precisely—half a million dollars.
Numerous packages of securities, or supposed to contain them, tied up and sealed and labeled with Mack’s own handwriting, contained only worthless papers and useless old documents.
David Mack was short precisely the amount of the demanded ransom.
“My Lord!” Mr. Madden groaned, when the full truth was learned. “My Lord, who could have believed it? Are disasters never to end? What on earth does this mean, Mr. Carter?”
Chick waved both dismayed bankers to their seats.
“What it means, gentlemen, may be very briefly stated,” he now said gravely. “David Mack has been speculating heavily in an assumed character and under the name of Jack Conroy. He has margin accounts with half a score of brokers, and is involved more than half a million dollars, with absolutely no prospect of recovery in the present declining market.”
“Recovery! Good heavens, I should say not!” cried Mellen, throwing up his hands.