This remarkable epistle was immediately despatched by messenger to Pine Street; and if Mr. Screw had felt himself injured before, he was on the verge of desperation when he read Claudius's polemic. He repeated to himself the several sentences, which seemed to breathe war and carnage in their trenchant brevity; and he thought that even if he had been guilty of any breach of trust, he could hardly have felt worse. He ran his fingers through his thick yellow-gray hair, and hooked his legs in and out of each other as he sat, and bullied his clerks within an inch of their lives. Then, to get consolation, he said to himself that Claudius was certainly an impostor, or he would not be so angry, or go to Europe, or refuse any more communications. In the midst of his rage, Mr. Barker the younger opportunely appeared in the office of Messrs. Screw and Scratch, prepared to throw any amount of oil upon the flames.
"Well?" said Mr. Barker interrogatively, as he settled the flower in his gray coat, and let the paper ribband of the "ticker" run through his other hand, with its tale of the tide of stocks. Yellow Mr. Screw shot a lurid glance from his brassy little eyes.
"Who?" asked Barker, in well-feigned innocence.
"Claudius. It's my belief he's a liar and a thief and a damned impostor, sir. That's my belief, sir." He waxed warm as he vented his anger.
"Well, I only suggested taking precautions. I never said any of these things," answered Barker, who had no idea of playing a prominent part in his own plot. "Don't give me any credit, Mr. Screw."
"Now, see here, Mr. Barker; I'm talking to you. You're as clever a young man as there is in New York. Now, listen to me; I'm talking to you," said Mr. Screw excitedly. "That man turned me out of his house--turned me out of doors, sir, yesterday afternoon; and now he writes me this letter; look here, look at it; read it for yourself, can't you? And so he makes tracks for Europe, and leaves no address behind. An honest man isn't going to act like that, sir--is he, now?"
"Not much," said Barker, as he took the letter. He read it through twice, and gave it back. "Not much," he repeated. "Is it true that he has drawn no money?"
"Well, yes, I suppose it is," answered Screw reluctantly, for this was the weak point in his argument. "However, it would be just like such a leg to make everything sure in playing a big game. You see he has left himself the rear platform, so he can jump off when his car is boarded."