McKenna, without answering, indicated himself with a jerk of his finger. Garraboy, seating himself at the desk, took up a pen and carefully filled in the check, blotted it and handed the two drafts to McKenna, who took them, endorsed them and, ringing, handed them to an assistant: "Present these at once. Telephone me as soon as they are honored." Garraboy carefully blotted the check-book in turn, replaced it in his pocket, and was thrusting back his chair from the desk when McKenna, turning on him sharply, said: "Garraboy, you stole that ring of Mrs. Kildair’s." The broker, startled, jerked up his head. "So that’s the meaning of all this!" he said angrily. "Answer my question!" But this time Garraboy, without wincing, rose suddenly to his feet. "McKenna, I have nothing more to say to you," he said, scowling, "on this or any other question. Your claims are satisfied. I recognize no further right of you to insult me." "Don’t move, Mr. Garraboy," said McKenna softly; "we’ve a lot of business still to talk over." "Are you trying to blackmail me?" said Garraboy furiously, folding his arms. "Garraboy, I’ve got the goods on you and there may be a paper or two in my pocket you wouldn’t care to have served," said McKenna, the pupils of his eyes seeming to dwindle to a point as the whites showed under a well-simulated show of anger. "First place, you’re going to sit here until I get a telephone those checks are cashed. Second, and this may surprise you, you’re going to stick right by me—today and tonight, until you make up your mind whether you’ll answer me or answer a court of justice. Third, before we get through here, I want your name at the bottom of a little document I’ve drawn up for you." "What do you mean?" said Garraboy, but with a note of apprehension in his voice. "A plain, honest recital of what you’ve been doing with other folks’ property these last two months—" "You said—" fairly screamed the broker. "I said if you settled my claims I wouldn’t prosecute—true, and I won’t. But just the same you’re getting out of business here in New York, and I’m going to hold a paper that’ll keep you out." "Never!" exclaimed Garraboy in desperation. "Every cent I owe will be settled in twenty-four hours. I’ll close up every account—I’ll agree to that—but I’ll not be blackmailed into this. You haven’t a charge against me that’ll stand in any court in this country—" "What about that ring?" said McKenna. "You were trying all over town to raise fifteen thousand dollars that day. Garraboy, you stole that ring, pawned it, and raised the money to hold off your loans." "That’s a lie!" he said, clenching his fists. "I got it—" "Where?" "None of your business." "Where did you get the money to pay your interest and to put up the new margins you did?" "I was acting for others." "What others?" Garraboy opened his mouth to reply and then suddenly stopped. McKenna said immediately: