They discussed Bones in terms equally unflattering. They likened Bones

to all representatives of the animal world whose characteristics are

extreme foolishness, but at last they came into a saner, calmer frame

of mind.

Miss Clara Stegg seated herself on the frowsy sofa--indispensable to a

Pimlico furnished flat--and, with her elbow on one palm and her chin on

another, reviewed the situation. She was the brains of a little

combination which had done so much to distress and annoy susceptible

financiers in the City of London. (The record of the Stegg sisters may

be read by the curious, or, at any rate, by as many of the curious as

have the entrée to the Record Department of Scotland Yard.) The Steggs specialised in finance, and operated exclusively in high

financial circles. There was not a fluctuation of the market which

Miss Clara Stegg did not note; and when Rubber soared sky-high, or

Steel Preferred sagged listlessly, she knew just who was going to be

affected, and just how approachable they were.

During the War the Stegg sisters had opened a new department, so to

speak, dealing with Government contracts, and the things which they

knew about the incomes of Government contractors the average surveyor

of taxes would have given money to learn.

"It was my mistake, Bertha," she said at last, "though in a sense it

wasn't. I tried him simply, because he's simple. If you work

something complicated on a fellow like that, you're pretty certain to

get him guessing."

She went out of the room, and presently returned with four ordinary

exercise-books, one of which she opened at a place where a page was

covered with fine writing, and that facing was concealed by a sheet of

letter-paper which had been pasted on to it. The letter-paper bore the

embossed heading of Schemes Limited, the epistle had reference to a

request for an autograph which Bones had most graciously granted.

The elder woman looked at the signature, biting her nether lip.

"It is almost too late now. What is the time?" she asked.

"Half-past three," replied her sister.

Miss Stegg shook her head.

"The banks are closed, and, anyway----"

She carried the book to a table, took a sheet of paper and a pen, and,

after a close study of Bones's signature, she wrote it, at first

awkwardly, then, after about a dozen attempts, she produced a copy

which it was difficult to tell apart from the original.

"Really, Clara, you're a wonder," said her sister admiringly.

Clara made no reply. She sat biting the end of the pen.

"I hate the idea of getting out of London and leaving him with all that

money, Bertha," she said. "I wonder----" She turned to her sister.

"Go out and get all the evening newspapers," she said. "There's bound

to be something about him, and I might get an idea."




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