"And see to the other gentlemen's glasses, Sergeant," he
directed. "Back in 1929, Stephen thought I was crazy as a bedbug to sell
all my securities and take a paper loss, around the first of September.
After October 24th, I bought them back at about twenty per cent of what
I'd sold them for, after he'd lost his shirt." That, he knew, would have
an effect on T. Barnwell Powell. "And in December, 1944, I was just
plain nuts, selling all my munition shares and investing in a company
that manufactured baby-food. Stephen thought that Rundstedt's Ardennes
counter-offensive would put off the end of the war for another year and
a half!"
"Baby-food, eh?" Doctor Vehrner chuckled.
Colonel Hampton sipped his whiskey slowly, then puffed on his cigar.
"No, this pair were competent liars," he replied. "A good workmanlike
liar never makes up a story out of the whole cloth; he always takes a
fabric of truth and embroiders it to suit the situation." He smiled
grimly; that was an accurate description of his own tactical procedure
at the moment.
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