“Come, no joking. I haven’t any time to waste. Got an order from a broker? Hand it over with the check.”
“I haven’t any order and I haven’t any check,” Ned made reply, somewhat sharply, for the clerk’s manner nettled him. “I came in here to buy some stock on my own account. I’ve got the cash here, but if you don’t want—”
“What is it?” asked a large, pompous man, with a florid face and a white moustache, coming from an inner office.
“This boy says he wants to buy some stock,” the clerk replied.
The florid man looked at Ned sharply.
“You mean this gentleman comes in here to invest in the Mt. Olive Oil Well Corporation,” the florid man went on quickly. “Certainly, my dear sir,” and he shot a meaning look at the clerk. “Skem & Skim will be happy to transact any business you may entrust them with. Step in here, please,” and he held the door open for Ned to enter the inner office.
That was even more richly furnished than the outer one. Ned sat in an upholstered chair that seemed to smother him, so far down did it let him sink.
“Now, my dear sir, what can we do for you?” and the man looked at Ned.
“I have a hundred dollars to invest in your oil well.”
The man seemed a little disappointed.