THE more Peter Satchley thought of his ten thousand dollars that had gone into the pockets of Lorenzo Brayton the angrier he became. He had assuaged his rage to a certain extent by smashing Brayton on the point of the chin and rendering him unconscious, but that was only a first installment of his vengeance.
Catching sight of Brayton in the restaurant during the luncheon hour had added fuel to the flames of Peter Satchley’s wrath. He returned to his office and sat before the desk, telling his stenographer and office boy that he was not to be disturbed for the time being, and began considering methods of making Brayton pay. He had no idea of regaining the ten thousand; he knew from past experiences that when Brayton got his clutches on money that money was lost forever to the rightful owne
