It was short but eloquent.
"DEAR SIR, - We notice that your account to-day stands 119,000
pounds overdrawn, against which we hold as collateral security shares
in the Bekwando Land Company to the value of 150,000 pounds. As we
have received certain very disquieting information concerning the
value of these shares, we must ask you to adjust the account before
closing hours to-day, or we shall be compelled to place the shares
upon the market.
"Yours truly,
"A. SINCLAIR, General Manager."
Trent tore the letter into atoms, but he never quailed. Telegraph
and telephone worked his will, he saw all callers, a cigar in his
mouth and flower in his buttonhole, perfectly at his ease, sanguine
and confident. A few minutes before closing time he strolled into
the bank and no one noticed a great bead of perspiration which stood
out upon his forehead. He made out a credit slip for 119,000 pounds,
and, passing it across the counter with a roll of notes and cheques,
asked for his shares.
They sent for the manager. Trent was ushered with much ceremony
into his private room. The manager was flushed and nervous.
"I am afraid you must have misunderstood my note, Mr.
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