strator, I inventoried only
the obvious stuff--that's why it looked so small. I meant to give you
and Ethel your share when the danger was all over--didn't want to
involve you; you see how it was. And now Kirkwood's trying to trace
that stuff--about three hundred thousand--a hundred thousand apiece for
you and Ethel and me. No; not a word till I get through," he whispered
hoarsely as Fred tried to break in. "They can send me up for that;
juggling the inventory; but you see how we're all in the same boat. And
what you can do to save me and the bank and father's good name is to go
to Kirkwood--he thinks well of you and will believe you--and tell him
you know positively that father never got any of the construction bonds.
You can be sure the construction company fellows got rid of theirs and
took themselves off long ago. It was a fake company, anyhow. It's all in
Kirkwood's hands; if you shut him off, Uncle Will can pull the bank
through. And I'll give you your share of the bonds now."

The perspiration glistened on his forehead; he ran his hands through his
hair nervously. Misreading the look in Fred's face for incredulity, he
pointed to the closet door.

"I've got the bonds in my suit-case; I was afraid Kirkwood might find a
way of getting into my safety box at Indianapolis. He's no end smart,
that fellow. And I figure that if the road goes into a receivership the
bonds will pay sixty anyhow. You see where that puts you--no more of
this farmer rot. You'd be well fixed. And it will be easy for you to
satisfy Kirkwood. Just the right word and he will pull his probe out of
the administratorship, and get a receiver who will represent us and give
us the proceeds when the trouble's all over. Damn it! Don't look at me
that way! Don't you see that I've been taking big chances in hiding that
stuff, just for you and Ethel! I'm going crazy with the responsibility
of all this, and now you've got to help me out. And if Kirkwood gets to
the grand jury with that administration business, you see where it puts
us--what it means to you and Ethel, the disgrace of it. Don't forget
that father took those bonds--his share of Sycamore swag--and left it up
to me to defend his good name and divide the proceeds when it was safe.
Don't stand there like a dead man! Say something, can't you!"

It had slowly dawned upon Fred that he was listening to an appeal for
mercy, a cry for help from this jaunty, cocksure brother. It was a
miserable mess; bey