"Ah-h-h!" says she. Another quick hug for Vincent, a happy smile tossed at Old Hickory, and she has tripped out.
For a minute or so all you could hear in the private office was Piddie's heart beatin' on his ribs, or maybe it was his knees knockin' together. He hasn't the temperament to sit in on deep emotional scenes, Piddie. As for Old Hickory, he clips the end off a six-inch brunette cigar, lights up careful, and then turns slow to Vincent.
"Well, young man," says he, "so you did know about that motion to pass the dividend, after all, eh!"
Vincent nods, his head still down.
"Took a look at the letter book, did you!" asks Old Hickory.
Another weak nod.
"And 'phoned a code message to someone in Broad Street, I suppose?" suggests Old Hickory.
"No, sir," says Vincent. "He—he was waiting in the Arcade. I slipped out and handed him a copy of the motion—as carried. But not until after the full board had reversed it."
"Oh!" says Old Hickory. "Gave your friend the double cross, as I believe you would state it?"
"He wasn't a friend," protests Vincent. "It was Izzy Goldheimer, who used to work in the bond room before I came. He's with a Curb firm now and has been trying for months to work me for tips on Corrugated holdings. Promised me a percentage. But he was a welcher, and I knew it. So when I did give him a tip it—it was that kind."