“It is,” he answered shortly.

“I understand you hold a note of a certain Mrs. Effingham for ten thousand dollars.  May I ask if it is secured?”

“Who is this?” snapped McKeever.

“One of her friends,” replied Mr. Badger amicably.

“Well, we don’t discuss our clients’ affairs over the telephone.  You had better come in here if you have any inquiries to make.”

“But I want to pay the note,” expostulated Mr. Badger.

“Oh!  Well, anybody can pay the note who wants to.”

“And of course in that case you would turn over whatever collateral is on deposit to secure the note?”

“If we were so directed.”

“May I ask what collateral there is?”

“I don’t know.”

“There is some collateral, I suppose?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I have an order from Mrs. Effingham directing the bank to turn over whatever securities she has on deposit as collateral, on my payment of the note.”

“In that case you’ll get ’em,” said Mr. McKeever gruffly.  “I’ll get them out and have ’em ready for you.”

* * * * *

“Here is my certified check for ten thousand; dollars,” announced Alfred Haynes Badger a few minutes later.  “And here is the order from Mrs. Effingham.  Now will you kindly turn over to me all the securities?”

Mr. McKeever, knowing something of the reputation of Mr. Badger, first called up the bank which had certified the latter’s check, and having ascertained that the certification was genuine he marked Mrs. Effingham’s note as paid and then took down from the top of his roll-top desk the bundle of beautifully engraved securities given him by Mr. Tutt.  Badger watched him greedily.

“Thank you,” he gurgled, stuffing them into his pocket.  “Much obliged for your courtesy.  Perhaps you would like me to open an account here?”

“Oh, anybody can open an account who wants to,” remarked Mr. McKeever dryly, turning away from him to something else.

Mr. Badger fairly flew back to his office.  The exquisite blonde had hardly ever before seen him exhibit so much agitation.

“What have you pulled this time?” she inquired dreamily.  “Father’s daguerreotype and the bracelet of mother’s hair?”

“I’ve grabbed off the whole bag of tricks!” he cried.  “Look at ’em!  We’ve not seen so much of the real stuff in six months.

“Ten—­twenty—­thirty—­forty—­fifty—­By gad!—­sixty—­seventy!”

“What are they?” asked Mabel curiously.  “Some bonds—­what?”

“I should say so!” he retorted gaily.  “Say, girlie, I’ll give you the swellest meal of your young life to-night!  Chicago Water Front and Terminal, Great Lakes and Canadian Southern, Mohawk and Housatonic, Bluff Creek and Iowa Central. ‘Oh, Mabel!’”

It was at just about this period of the celebration that Mr. Tutt entered the outer office and sent in his name; and as Mr. Badger was at the height of his good humor he condescended to see him.