"
"Come in," repeated the largest director; "on a street-car!"
"Looks to me," ventured the quiet director to the largest, "as if you
didn't bluff him quite to death last night."
"Aut'mobile!" said Breede. "Knew he had some one b'ind him."
"Let's get to business. No good putting it off now," said the quiet
director.
"Seven hundred shares! My God! This is monstrous!" said the little
eldest director, who had been making noises like a heavy locomotive.
Bean would have sat forever on that bench of the mighty,
world-forgetting, if not world-forgot. But the departure of several of
the men drew his attention to the supreme obligation of a guest.
"Well," he said, rising.
"Look in on us again some day," urged the Pitcher cordially.
"Thanks, I surely will," said Bean. "I like to forget business this way,
now and then. Good day!"
They waved him friendly adieus, and he was out where Paul waited.
"Forget business!" He had indeed for two hours forgotten business and
people. Not once had he thought of those waiting directors.
Well, they could do their worst, now. He was ripe to laugh at any fate.
What was prison? "The prisoner," he seemed to read, "betrayed no
consciousness of the enormity of his crime, and had, indeed, spent the
morning at the Polo Grounds, chatting with various members of the
Giants, with which team he is a great favourite."
Let them bring their gyves.
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