With a quick motion Joe caught the fellow up, and raised him high in the air, over his head.
"Oh—oh! Put me down! Put me down!" Sanford begged. "I—I'll fall!"
"You won't fall as long as I have hold of you," chuckled Joe. "But there's no telling when I might let go. Now let's talk business."
Trembling, Sanford found himself in the chair again.
"Did you sell Miss Morton any more stock?" demanded Joe.
"No—I—she—came here to buy, I thought, but——"
"Well, as long as she didn't it's all right. Now then about that oil stock you got her to invest her money in—is that stock good?"
"Why, of course it——"
"Isn't!" interrupted Joe, "and you knew it wasn't when you sold it to her. Now then I want you to take that stock back and return her money. And I don't want you to sell that stock to some other person, either. You just tear it up. It's worthless, and you know it. I want Miss Morton's money back for her."
"I haven't it!" whined the clerk.