XIII

The American Visitor

Superintendent Battle replaced the sheet with the slightly crestfallen air of a man whose best point has fallen flat. Anthony stood with his hands in his pockets lost in thought.

“So that’s what old Lollipop meant when he talked about ‘other means,’ ” he murmured at last.

“I beg your pardon, Mr. Cade?”

“Nothing, superintendent. Forgive my abstraction. You see, I⁠—or rather my friend, Jimmy McGrath, has been very neatly done out of a thousand pounds.”

“A thousand pounds is a nice sum of money,” said Battle.

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