“Why, you’ve stabbed them in the back!” half shouted Oliver. “I could hardly believe my ears when they told me. Robbie Walling is simply wild—I never had such a time in my life.”
“I don’t understand yet,” said Montague, more and more amazed. “What has he to do with it?”
“Why, man,” cried Oliver, “his brother’s a director in the Fidelity! And his own interests—and all the other companies! You’ve struck at the whole insurance business!”
Montague caught his breath. “Oh, I see!” he said.
“How could you think of such a thing?” cried the other, wildly. “You promised to consult me about things—”
“I told you when I took this case,” put in Montague, quickly.
“I know,” said his brother. “But you didn’t explain—and what did I know about it? I thought I could leave it to your common sense not to mix up in a thing like this.”
“I’m very sorry,” said Montague, gravely. “I had no idea of any such result.”
“That’s what I told Robbie,” said Oliver. “Good God, what a time I had!”
He took his hat and coat and laid them on the bed, and sat down and began to tell about it. “I made him realize the disadvantage you were under,” he said, “being a stranger and not knowing the ground. I believe he had an idea that you tried to get his confidence on purpose to attack him. It was Mrs. Robbie, I guess—you know her fortune is all in that quarter.”