He was pulling out the drawer of a bureau now--and now his hands
were searching swiftly under the mattress of the bed. It was necessary
to secure the bonds. Barring that little matter of the numbers, they
were as good as cash--and the matter of numbers would not trouble Virat.
He knew Virat, and he had known Virat very well--but not so well by far
as he knew him now! Virat was as suave and polished a gentleman crook as
the country possessed. Viral was the sort of man who, after the uproar
had died down, would have the nerve and address to take up his residence
in some little out-of-the-way place, and either dispose of as many of
the bonds at a time as he dared to those he would cultivate as friends,
or even have the audacity to secure a loan on a modest number of them
from the local bank itself, whose conversance with the missing numbers
might be expected to be of the haziest description. Also Virat would be
careful to see that his offerings were not made at such dates as to have
the interest coupons cause him any inconvenience by falling due within
twenty-four hours! It would be quite simple--for Virate! In six months,
in as many places, with the length and breadth of the country to choose
from, Virat could quite readily dispose of the lot; not quite at the
issue price perhaps if he secured loans, but still at a figure that
would be very profitable--for Virat! Or, as Meighan had suggested, with
the aid of a confederate of the right sort, the change of a figure--ah!
Jimmie Dale; flat upon the floor, his hand stretched in under the
washstand, drew out a short, round, heavy object.
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