“When I saw that cheque in my hands I thought I'd use it temporarily—merely as moral collateral to flash at Burbank—something to back my I. O. U.'s. So I filled it in.”
“For how much?” she asked, not daring to believe him; but he ignored the question and went on: “I filled it and indorsed it, and—”
“How could you indorse it?” she interrupted coolly, now unconvinced again and suspicious.
“I'll tell you if you'll stop that fool tongue a moment. The cheque was made to 'L. Mortimer,' wasn't it? So I wrote 'L. Mortimer' on the back. Now do you know? If you are L. Mortimer, so am I. Leila begins with L; so does Leroy, doesn't it? I didn't imitate your two-words-to-a-page autograph. I put my own fist to a cheque made out to one L. Mortimer; and I don't care what you think about it as long as Plank can stand it. Now put up your nose and howl, if you like.”
But under her sudden pallor he was taking fright again, and he began to bolster up his courage with bluster and noise, as usual:
“Howl all you like!” he jeered. “It won't alter matters or square accounts with Plank. What are you staring at? Do you suppose I'm not sorry? Do you fancy I don't know what a fool I've been? What are you turning white for? What in hell—”
“How much have you—” She choked, then, resolutely: “How much have you—taken?”
“Taken!” he broke out, with an oath. “What do you mean? I've borrowed about twenty thousand dollars. Now yelp! Eh? What?—no yelps? Probably some weeps, then. Turn 'em on and run dry; I'll wait.” And he managed to cross one bulky leg over the other and lean back, affecting resignation, while Leila, bolt upright in her low chair, every curved outline rigid under the flowing, silken wrap, stared at him as though stunned.
“Well, we're good for it, aren't we?” he said threateningly. “If he's going to turn ugly about it, here's the house.”
“My—house?”