"I asked you how it happened that my uncle now has father's Stock
Exchange seat in his possession."
"Why!... Has he?"
"Yes. And I think you know he has, Mr. Sylvester. I know it, because he
told me so himself. Didn't you know it?"
This was a line shot from directly in front and a hard one to dodge.
A lie was the only guard, and he was not in the habit of lying, even
professionally.
"I--I cannot answer these questions," he declared. "They involve
professional secrets and--"
"I don't see that this is a secret. My uncle has already told me. What
I could not understand was how he obtained the seat from the man to whom
it was given as a part of father's debt. Do you know how he obtained
it?"
"Er--well--er--probably an arrangement was made. I cannot go into
details, because--well, for obvious reasons. You must excuse me,
Caroline."
He rose to go.
"One moment more," she said, "and one more question. Mr. Sylvester, who
IS this mysterious person--this stockholder whom father defrauded,
this person who wishes his name kept a secret, but who does such queer
things? Who is he?"
"Caroline, I tell you I cannot answer these questions. He does wish to
remain unknown, as I told you and your brother when we first learned of
him and his claim.
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