CHAPTER 13. THE AMERICAN VISITOR
Superintendent Battle replaced the sheet with the slightly crest-fallen 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.
“ It isn’t the thousand pounds so much,” said Anthony, “though I agree with you that it’s a nice sum of money. It’s being done that maddens me. I handed over that manuscript like a little woolly lamb. It hurts, superintendent, indeed
