The two in the window were on edge by this time. It was tantalising to have to wait several minutes, and then get only such snatches.
“But they'll get past the speech-making pretty soon,” whispered Bates; and indeed they did.
The next two words which the cord spelled out made Montague sit up and clutch the arms of his chair again.
“Gotham Trust!”
“Ah!” whispered Bates. Montague made not a sound.
“Ryder misusing,” spelled the cord.
Bates seized his companion by the arm, and leaned close to him. “By the Lord!” he whispered breathlessly, “I wonder if they're going to smash the Gotham Trust!”
“Refuse clearing,” spelled Rodney; and Montague felt Bates's hand trembling. “They refuse to clear for Ryder!” he panted.
Montague was beyond all speech; he sat as if turned to stone.
“To-morrow morning,” spelled the cord.