He's a crank, whatever else he is. They
tell me he doesn't keep a bank account. If he gets a cheque, he has it
changed into cash. If he wants to send a cheque away, he buys one for
cash from somebody. He pays for everything in cash, if he can. Actually,
he hasn't a banking account in the place. Cash--nothing but cash! What do
you think of that?"
The Young Doctor nodded: "Cash as a habit is useful. Every man must have
his hobby, I suppose. Considering the crimes tried at the court in this
town, Mazarine's got unusual faith in human nature; or else he feels
himself pretty safe at Tralee."
"Thieves?" asked Burlingame satirically.
"Yes, I believe that's still the name, though judging from some of your
talk in the Court-house, it's a word that gives opportunity to take
cover. I hope your successful client of to-day, and his brothers, are not
familiar with the ways of Mr. Mazarine. I hope they don't know about this
six thousand dollars in cold cash."
A sneering, sour smile came to Burlingame's lips. The medical man's dry
allusions touched him on the raw all too often.
"Oh, of course, I told them all about that six thousand dollars! Of
course! A lot of people suspect those McMahons of being crooked. Well, it
has never been proved. Until it's proved, they're entitled--" Burlingame
paused.
"To the benefit of the doubt, eh?"
"Why not? I've heard you hold the balance pretty fair 'twixt your
patients and the undertaker.
Pages:
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53