The Old Reporter
guessed the girl would know. When in trouble, Woods generally found, a man has to talk to some woman, and Billy had reckoned on the right one.
"Then after your father learned that the Western bank wanted the securities after all?"
"Well, then, Mr. Palmer, you know what the directors decided to do. Indeed, you ought to know."
"Indeed, I ought," said the stranger, with a very bitter laugh. "And your father?"
"Well, Mr. Palmer—my father—it was too late then; it was simply a necessity, under the circumstances. Don't you see it was? How did papa know that the directors were not going to concur with him—they always had before—how was he to guess—oh, Mr. Palmer, isn't it awful! This whole thing—papa's nearly worried to death—but he thinks he will be able to tide it over by to-night—he's positive if he can only continue to keep the papers off the right scent, you know. Of course you won't talk to any reporters, will you, Mr. Palmer?"
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