Armstrong,"
he replied in the low voice habitual with him.
For an instant the bogus Lester Armstrong's brows were knit closely
together; then he said, coolly, sharply: "I've changed my mind; I don't
want to see you."
Still the man lingered.
"Pardon me," he said. "I thought probably it might be in regard to those
notes of Jordan & Beckwith which you were considering negotiating for."
"Well, you'll have to think again," exclaimed the other, tartly.
Mr. Conway turned toward the door, but as he stretched out his hand to
grasp the knob his employer sang out, sharply:
"Hold on, there! Come here and see if you can do anything with this
confounded desk. It's got the jim-jams or something. I've been monkeying
with it for the last half hour, and can do nothing with it." And as he
uttered the words, he held out the bunch of keys toward him.
If Mr. Conway had been startled before, he was certainly alarmed now,
and he looked at his companion in amazement which could not be
concealed.
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