“I beg your pardon,” said Kent. “I shouldn’t have spoken as I did. Fact is, I’m a little touchy on that subject.”
“Needlessly so,” said Ackerman. “Most of my own property is mortgaged, and I don’t consider it a disgrace. I can use the money to better advantage in other ways. Well, as I was saying, the new capital would expand the business, the advice of experienced gentlemen would make things easy for you; and if the property was put in at a good, liberal valuation—as of course it would be—your holding would be worth more than it is to-day.”
“That is, the experienced gentlemen would water the stock,” said Kent.
Mr. Ackerman reddened a little. “A liberal valuation isn’t water,” he replied. “Those who would buy into the concern wouldn’t be apt to give you too much. Of course, they would desire to be perfectly fair.”
“Oh, of course,” said Kent. “Well, Mr. Ackerman, I don’t think we need discuss the matter further, for I’ve decided to keep on paddling my own little canoe.”
“Think it over, think it over,” Ackerman urged.
“I have thought it over,” said Joe. “You see, Mr. Ackerman, I may not know much about this business, but I don’t know any more about any other. So I might as well stick to it.”
“The plan I have outlined”—Ackerman began.
“I don’t like,” Kent put in, smiling. “My position is this: I want to handle this business myself and make a success at it. I expect to make mistakes, but not the same mistake twice. I’m awfully obliged for your interest, but to be told what to do by a board of directors would spoil all my fun.”
“Fun!” echoed Mr. Ackerman, horrified. “My dear sir, business—is—not—fun!”