“He may have been referring to something else,” said Mr. Opp, waiving aside any disagreeable suspicion. “Mr. Mathews is a business gentleman. He’s involved in a great many ventures, something like myself. You wouldn’t think from what you heard that—er—that he was contemplating not acting exactly—fair with us, would you?”
Mr. Gallop, having delivered himself of his information, did not feel called upon to express a personal opinion.
“If you ever say I told you a word of this, I’ll swear I didn’t,” he said. “It was just because you were such a good [p282] friend, and—there’s that ’phone again!”
During the early hours of the afternoon, Mr. Opp was oppressed with a vague uneasiness. He made several attempts to see Mr. Mathews, but that gentleman was closeted with his stenographer until five o’clock, the hour named for the meeting.
All feeling of distrust was banished, however, when Mr. Mathews made his way through the crowd of stock-holders that filled the office of Your Hotel, and took his stand by the desk. He was so bland and confident, so satisfied with himself and the world and the situation, that, as Jimmy Fallows remarked, “You kinder looked for him to purr when he wasn’t talking.”
He set forth at great length the undoubted oil wealth of the region, he complimented them on their sagacity and foresight in buying up the Turtle Creek ground, he praised the Cove in general and that distinguished citizen, the editor of “The Opp Eagle,” in particular. The [p283] enterprise upon which they had embarked, he said, had grown to such proportions that large capital was required to carry it on. Owing to the recent depression in the money market, the Kentucky company did not feel able properly to back the concern, so it had been agreed that if a good offer was made to buy it, it should be accepted. It was with such an offer, Mr. Mathews said, that he had come to them to-day.
A stir of excitement met this announcement, and Miss Jim Fenton waved her lace scarf in her enthusiasm.
“Some time ago,” went on Mr. Mathews, graciously acknowledging the applause, “the Union Syndicate of New York sent an expert, Mr. Clark, down here to report on the oil conditions in this region.” Mr. Opp’s eyes became fixed on Mr. Mathews’s face, and his lips parted. “The report was so entirely satisfactory,” continued Mr. Mathews, “that the following offer has been made.”
Mr. Opp rose immediately. “Excuse [p284] me, sir, there is—er—rather, there must be some little mistake just at this juncture.”
All eyes were turned upon him, and a murmur of dissent arose at an interruption at such a critical point.