Murray had had experience with the ways of loan-sharks before, and he was confident that he now had the whole story. Vincent was out of money and desperate; he knew that Miss Bronson had been using her own money, and that not one cent of it would his wife pay back; he had tried to have the beneficiary of the policy changed, and had failed. Then, determined to get something out of the policy, he had gone to a loan-shark. The unscrupulous money-lender, getting an exorbitant rate of interest, could afford to be less particular about the wife’s signature. He would run the risk of forgery, confident that the policy would be redeemed to prevent a scandal, no matter what happened. Indeed, in some cases a loan-shark would a little rather have a forgery than the genuine signature, for it gives him an additional hold on the interested parties and lessens the likelihood of a resort to law over the question of usurious interest. “The scoundrel will come,” said Murray, and the scoundrel came by invitation. A formal notification that he held an assignment of the policy arrived first, and that gave his name and address and enabled Murray to telephone him. A loan-shark does not lose much time in matters of this sort. Neither did Murray in this case, for his invitation to call was prompt and imperative, even to setting the exact time for the call. And a message was sent to Mrs. Albert Vincent, also. “What’s your interest in that policy?” asked Murray. “A thousand dollars,” replied the money-lender. “A thousand dollars!” ejaculated the startled Murray. “What the devil did he do with the money?” “That is something that does not concern me,” said the money-lender carelessly. The confidence and carelessness of the reply recalled Murray to a consciousness of the situation. He had a sharp and hard game to play with a clever and unscrupulous man. “How much did you loan him?” he demanded. “The note is for a thousand dollars,” was the prompt reply. “How much did you loan him, Shylock?” repeated Murray, and the money-lender was startled out of his complacent confidence. “I didn’t come here to be insulted!” he exclaimed. “I hold the policy and the assignment of it as security. If you can’t talk business, as man to man, I’ll quit and leave the matter to a lawyer.” “If you put one foot outside of that door,” retorted Murray, “we’ll fight this matter to a finish, Shylock, and we’ll get some points on your business methods. Come back and sit down.” The money-lender had made a pretense of leaving, but he paused and met the cold, hard look of Murray. Then he came back. “Of course, we take risks,” he said apologetically. “Mighty few,” commented Murray uncompromisingly. “If a man has security that is good at the bank he won’t come to us,” persisted the money-lender. “We have to protect ourselves for the additional risk.”