cash money collections phone number

cash money collections phone number

“I cannot do it, Lucy,” he said.

She reached up and pulled the signal cord; and the cab came to a halt.

“I want you to get out, Allan!” she cried wildly. “Please get out, and go away.”

He started to protest again; but she pushed him away in frenzy. “Go, go!” she cried; and half dazed, and scarcely realising what he did, he gave way to her and stepped out into the street.

“Drive!” she called to the man, and shut the door; and Montague found himself standing on a driveway in the park, with the lights of the cab disappearing around a turn.

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Montague started to walk. He had no idea where he went; his mind was in a whirl, and he was lost to everything about him. He must have spent a couple of hours wandering about the park and the streets of the city; when at last he stopped and looked about him, he was on a lighted thoroughfare, and a big clock in front of a jewellery store was pointing to the hour of two.

He looked around. Immediately across the street was a building which he recognised as the office of the Express; and in a flash he thought of Bates. “Come in after the paper has gone to press,” the latter had said.

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He went in and entered the elevator.

“I want to see Mr. Bates, a reporter,” he said.

“City-room,” said the elevator man; “eleventh floor.”

Montague confronted a very cross and sleepy-looking office-boy. “Is Mr. Bates in?” he asked.

“I dunno,” said the boy, and slowly let himself down from the table upon which he had been sitting. Montague produced a card, and the boy disappeared. “This way,” he said, when he returned; and Montague found himself in a huge room, crowded with desks and chairs. Everything was in confusion; the floor was literally buried out of sight in paper.

Montague observed that there were only about a dozen men in the room; and several of these were putting on their coats. “There he is, over there,” said the office-boy.