One of them whistled when he saw the Legal Printing Company figures. "Well," he said, "business has been good."
"Fair," I said modestly.
The door to the shop opened and High-Pockets Jones walked in. I gulped; eight High-Pockets Joneses walked in behind him.
The three receivers stared. Their eyes stuck out until it was ludicrous. But it wasn't funny; I knew something was going to happen now.
By the time the last High-Pockets got in, the first receiver had seen what was going on and was trying to get out, but nine High-Pocketses in one room are a lot. For a minute it looked like a basketball game.
The elder lawyer looked at me suspiciously. "Please explain this."
I was too weak. "See for yourself," I said.
One High-Pockets spoke to me. "Sorry, Mr. Shane. Just came in to say good-bye. Never realized—"
"That's okay," I said. "You've done your part; I can't squawk."
The attorney spoke up. "Mr. Shane," he said, "I think the affairs of the Imperial Printing Company are in perilous circumstances. I do not know what is the meaning of this, but certainly there is something here without precedent." And if you know lawyers, you know that anything without precedent is very unholy.