Before I go further I must ask you to treat what I am about to say
as strictly confidential."
"Certainly, Mr. Clymer."
"Good! Then draw up your chair." Clymer waited until Kent had
complied with his request. "You have heard of Jimmie Turnbull's
sudden and tragic death?"
"Yes."
"As you know, he was cashier of this bank." Clymer spoke with
deliberation. "Soon after word reached here of his death, the
vice-president and treasurer of the bank had a careful examination
made of his books and accounts." Clymer paused to clear his throat;
he was troubled with an irritating cough. "Turnbull's accounts
were found in first class order."
"I am sure they would be, Mr. Clymer," exclaimed Kent warmly. "Any
one who knew Jimmie would never doubt his honesty."
McIntyre turned in his chair and regarded the speaker with no
friendly eye, but aside from that, took no part in the conversation.
Clymer did not at once resume speaking.
"To-day," he commenced finally, "Colonel McIntyre called at the
bank and asked the treasurer, Mr.
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