"
The horror and amazement on the faces of the men can better be imagined
than described. All had loved and revered Lester Armstrong, and to hear
that he had suddenly gone wrong because he had become possessed of a
fortune was alarming and distressing news to them.
"Drink changes him so completely in temperament that it is hard to
realize that he is the same courteous companion of those other days. He
was so far gone from the effects of liquor I am not even sure that he
recognized me. Hark! what is that?"
Several of the detectives of the place were rushing through the main
office toward the private office, in answer to Mr. Armstrong's summons.
The call for them had been so furious that they rushed in pell-mell,
without waiting to take time to rap.
The bogus Mr. Lester Armstrong still sat in the luxurious leather
armchair, his heels on the desk, fairly hidden in heavy clouds of blue
smoke from his Havana cigar, at which he was puffing vigorously, fairly
going into convulsions of laughter over a letter bearing a blue and
gold monogram, which he was reading.
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