"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 285 - Fountain of Death" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

unlocked drawer in his smoking room. The way he handled those gaudily printed shares made them look
like coupons that had come with the boxes of fifty cent cigars that were in the same drawer.

Now Cranston had found a silent supporter in his simple but exact opinion.

That supporter was Johnny Craver. Arriving just in time to witness the conclusion of the deal, Johnny let
his lips deliver an understanding curl. Momentarily taut, he was turning to speak to Gilbin and Borgand,
when he suddenly compromised in favor of a bottle of pre-war Scotch on Claybourne's sideboard.

Cranston's analysis was prompt.

Not having seen Claybourne bring those sugar shares from the desk drawer, Johnny was forming
conclusions from previous knowledge of Claybourne's ways. A stranger would have assumed that there
was a wall safe behind an oak panel of the smoking room; but not Johnny Craver.

The logical answer shot straight to Cranston's keen mind. Johnny knew that Claybourne didn't keep
valuables here, because he knew where Claybourne actually kept them.

Hearing the gurgle from the Scotch bottle, Claybourne was reminded of another sort of thirst. Turning, he
saw Johnny, and immediately outdid himself, a giveaway that he was anxious to divert talk from the deal
he had just closed. Pouring himself a drink, Claybourne clinked glasses with Johnny as he laid a warm
arm on the young man's shoulder.

"Johnny, my boy!" Claybourne's tone was rich with insincerity. "You're with us again and we're glad!" He
turned to the others and added with the same warm fakery: "Fill your glasses, gentlemen, and drink with
us. To your father, Johnny!"

It took the double Scotch, his first in months, to stifle the things that Johnny could have said. That one
drink lifted him into a silent fury which dispelled itself as suddenly. Narrowing his eyes to hide their glare,
Johnny waited for Claybourne to go on.

"Like my own son, Johnny is," announced Claybourne, "because his father was like my own brother.
Good old Craver; he had just one weakness: investments. We pulled them through, though, didn't we,
Johnny?"

Gulping another drink, Johnny nodded.

"Not as much left as I hoped." Claybourne shook his head. "Johnny didn't understand at first and it hurt
me to explain. But that's all forgotten now, Johnny. I've made allowance because you were young and
headstrong."

Across his glass, Johnny stared at the others.

"Forget and forgive," said Johnny. "That's Mr. Claybourne's way. It's nice of him."

The statement was for the benefit of Gilbin and Borgand, as if Sheff and Hippo didn't know. Johnny
meant that Claybourne would forget he'd talked them into buying worthless stock and would put it the
other way about. Also he'd forgive them for claiming they were swindled if they'd be suckers enough to
come back for another trim.