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."