“What!” he almost screamed.

“I’ll read it to you, if you don’t believe it!” said Mr. Elderberry.

“’United States District Court, Southern District of New York, Edward V. Barrows, Complainant against Horse’s Neck Extension Mining Company, Defendant.

“’Upon the subpoena herein and the complaint duly verified the nineteenth day of February, 1919, and the affidavit of Ephraim Tutt and—­’”

“Who in hell is Tutt?” shouted Greenbaum, interrupting.

“I don’t know,” retorted Elderberry; “or Barrows either.”

“Well, skip all the legal rot and get to the point,” directed Greenbaum.

“’Ordered—­ordered, that the defendant, Horse’s Neck Extension Mining Company, show cause at a stated term to be held in and for—­’”

“I said to cut the legal rot!”

“Um—­um—­’why an injunction order should not be issued herein pending the trial of this action and enjoining the defendant from disposing of its assets and for the appointment of a receiver of the assets of the defendant corporation; and why the complainant should not have such other, further and different relief as may be equitable.’”

There was a long pause during which Mr. Elderberry was under a convincing delusion that he could actually hear the thoughts that were rattling round in Mr. Greenbaum’s brain.

“You there?” he inquired presently.

“Oh, yes, I’m here!” retorted Greenbaum.  “This is the devil of a note!  Have you spoken to Chippingham?”

“Yes.”

“What does he say?”

“He says it’s awkward.  They have got hold somewhere of one of our old circulars of 1914 in which the property is described as worth about ten million dollars—­that was during the boom, you remember—­and they claim we are selling it to ourselves for less than one million and that on its face it’s a fraud on the minority stockholders who can’t afford to buy stock in the new corporation—­as of course it would be if the mine was really worth ten million or anything like it.”

“Did we really ever get out any circular like that?” demanded Greenbaum in a protesting voice.  “I don’t recall any.”

“That was when we were making a market for the stock,” Elderberry reminded him.  “We couldn’t say enough.  Honestly, to look at the thing now is enough to make you sick!”

“Well, it’s just a hold-up—­that’s what it is.  Some crook like this Tutt or this Barrows has found out about Amphalula and is bringing a strike suit.  You’ll have to call a meeting right away.  I’d like to strangle all these shyster lawyers!”

And it never occurred to Mr. Greenbaum that the possible existence of the Amphalula vein was what in fact made the order to show cause justifiable—­his actual ground of complaint being that anybody should, as he assumed, have found out about it in defiance of his plans.

* * * * *

“Yeronner,” said Attendant Mike Horan as he helped Judge Pollak into his black bombazine gown in his chambers in the old Post-Office Building on the morning of the return day, “there’s a great bunch out there in the court room waitin’ for ye, an’ no mistake!”