Pay to the order of Jeanne Delano, twenty thousand dollars.
( Signed ) Burke Pangburn
It was dated the second of the month.
“Burke Pangburn!” I exclaimed, a little stupidly. “Was it usual for him to draw checks to that amount?”
“I think not. But we shall see.”
He stabbed the pearl button again, ran his pencil across another slip of paper, and the youth with the polished yellow hair made a noiseless entrance, exit, entrance, and exit.
The cashier looked through the fresh batch of papers that had been brought to him.
“On the first of the month, Mr. Pangburn deposited twenty thousand dollars—a check against Mr. Axford’s account here.”
“Now how about Miss Delano’s withdrawals?” I asked.
He picked up the papers that had to do with her account again.
“Her statement and canceled checks for last month haven’t been delivered to her yet. Everything is here. A check for eighty-five dollars to the order of H. K. Clute on the fifteenth of last month; one ‘to cash’ for three hundred dollars on the twentieth, and another of the same kind for one hundred dollars on the twenty-fifth. Both of these checks were apparently cashed here by her. On the third of this month she closed out her account, with a check to her own order for twenty-one thousand, five hundred and fifteen dollars.”
“And that check?”