There was a pause until Groll took up evenly:
"Well, Alonzo, you want facts. Here they are. To begin, there's no doubt that this fellow Fargus got on to your game. He's planned the whole thing to revenge himself on you two, that's plain. He took his precautions in selling out, but fooled you by concealing the sale."
"Yes, that's plain."
"As to your case for conspiracy and desertion," Groll said reflectively, "all right, if you catch him. But by this time he's off and to run him down means money—a lot of it. When you find him he may be somewhere where you can't touch him. Of course he hasn't left a cent, here, for you to get at."
"No, damn him!"
"Now the point with you is where do you stand?"
Bofinger looked at him, waiting, as a man who knows there can be no favorable answer.
"Well, Alonzo, here's the truth. He's broken you! You owe twelve thousand to Sammamon, who'll get everything you have in the bank. What do you hold in notes on the woman?"
"About thirteen thousand," replied Bofinger, who was too ashamed to mention the higher figure.
"So much waste paper! Has she any debts?"