That leaves Watkin and Davidson--and
they don't matter. They're mere guinea-pigs. A few hundreds
apiece would shut them up, if you thought it was worth
while to give them anything at all."
"And about the property,--the rubber plantation,--that
the Company was formed to acquire and develop. I suppose
there really is such a plantation?"
"Oh, yes, it's all there right enough," Thorpe said, briefly.
"It's no good, though, is it?" the Broker asked,
with affable directness.
"Between ourselves, it isn't worth a damn," the other
blithely assured him.
The Scotchman mused with bent brows. "There ought still
to be money in it," he said, with an air of conviction.
"By the way," it occurred to Thorpe to mention, "here's
something I didn't understand. I told Rostocker here,
just as a cheeky kind of joke, that after he and Aronson
had got their eight thousand five hundred, if they
thought they'd like still more shares, I'd let 'em have
'em at a bargain--and he seemed to take it seriously.
He did for a fact. Said perhaps he could make a deal
with me."
"Hm-m!" said Semple, reflectively. "I'll see if he
says anything to me. Very likely he's spotted some way
of taking the thing over, and reorganizing it, and giving
it another run over the course. I'll think it out.
And now I must be off.
Pages:
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404