Tell me, if you please, what document it is to which you refer."
"I think," Vine answered, "that I need not enter into too close details.
It is a document which you and your friends signed at Phineas Duge's
house, not many nights ago."
Weiss rose to his feet, crossed the office, and turned the key in the
lock of the door. He was a big man, and his face was a little flushed.
Littleson, too, had slid softly from the edge of the table, and was
watching his friend's face as though for a signal. Norris Vine, long,
angular, unathletic, showed not the slightest signs of discomposure. He
was leaning back in his chair, gently twirling by its thin black ribbon
the horn-rimmed eyeglass which he usually wore.
"Mr. Vine," Weiss said, "whatever attitude we may take up afterwards,
there isn't the slightest need to play a part with you. We did sign that
document, and we have been kicking ourselves ever since for doing so. It
was Phineas Duge's idea, and we are fairly well convinced that he
pressed us for our signatures as subscribers to the fund, simply for the
purpose of having in his possession a document which might, if its
contents were known, cause us some inconvenience.
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