“I was just thinking,” answered McGlory, “that this hoodoo car is trying to make up for the tough times it has given us. It’s about the worst combination of cylinders, rubber tires, and spark plugs that was ever put together, but, for all that, if it hadn’t cut up a few tantrums on the Jericho Pike this morning we’d never have found out a thing about the colonel’s crooked work.”
“That’s so. It’s an ill wind that blows nobody good, pard.”
“While the car’s running good, Matt, crowd the speed limit. Let’s get to Liberty Street as soon as we can.”
Matt proceeded to follow out his chum’s suggestion.
[CHAPTER XV.
HURLING A BOMB.]
Half a dozen men were gathered in the private conference room of Random & Griggs’ palatial brokerage offices in Liberty Street. One of these half dozen was the colonel. Another was Joshua Griggs. The remaining four were capitalists.
Colonel Mark Antony Billings was in his element. He had never looked more impressive than he did then. Levitt and McGlory had failed to arrive in time for the meeting, but they might come later. In any event, their presence was not of supreme importance.
In front of the colonel, on the mahogany table, sparkled the two bars of yellow bullion. They caught the gleams from the incandescent lights and reflected luring rays into the eyes of the capitalists.
The capitalists seemed greatly impressed. Griggs—the brokerage firm was to receive a very large commission if the mine was sold—wore a broad and amiable smile. The colonel was plausible and full of tact, answering questions promptly.