"Bojo!"
"Hello! What is it?"
He came out hurriedly at the sound of Granning's voice.
"Roscy on the 'phone.... What?... Good God!"
"What's that? What's happened?" he cried, as Fred came rushing out.
"Forshay—committed suicide—this morning—at his club—cut his throat!"
CHAPTER XVII
PAYING THE PIPER—PLUS
To go down to the office with the pall of disaster and tragedy over it, to face the accusatory looks of Hauk and Flaspoller with the dread consciousness of his own personal responsibility, was the hardest thing Bojo had ever had to do. Several times in the subway, filled with the Wall Street crowd excitedly discussing the sudden turn of yesterday, alarmed for the future, he had a wild impulse toward flight. Before him were the startling scare-heads of the Morning Post, the sole paper to have the story.