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.
Bates could hardly keep still for his excitement.
"Do you catch what that means?" he whispered. "The Clearing-house is
to throw out the Gotham Trust!"
"Why, they'll wreck it!" panted the other.
"My God, my God, they're mad!" cried Bates. "Don't they realise what
they'll do? There'll be a panic such as New York has never seen
before! It will bring down every bank in the city! The Gotham Trust!
Think of it!--the Gotham Trust!"
"Prentice objects," came Rodney's next message.
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