“What precisely is your idea of a good investment?”
“Well, I should say it would pay a good five per cent—at a low estimate....”
Edward raised his eyebrows with a superior little smile of indulgent amusement.
“Five per cent. Why, my dear man, I won’t look at anything that doesn’t bring in twenty at least. No, I’m very sorry for you. If I could really see my way to help you I would, for the sake of old times and so on. But one must keep sentiment out of business. It doesn’t do. And, honestly, I can see nothing in it. It isn’t even as if this ship were a fairly new ship. One must move with the times, you know. The late Mr. Featherstone was a very keen man of business, and as you yourself said just now, he’d been selling his ships for years. He knew his business, no doubt, as well as I know mine. And my motto is, ‘Let the cobbler stick to his last!’ His Elasto, eh? Ha ha—not bad that!... No, I’m awfully sorry! I quite see your position. I’ve often thought you were making a big mistake—you ought to have gone in with one of the steamer companies. But I’ll do what I can for you. I’ll put in a word for you, with pleasure. I know one or two directors——”
“Sorry! Help you! Put in a word for you!” What did the little blighter mean? A little snipe whose ear-hole he’d wrung many a time!
Broughton rose, breathing heavily. He restrained with difficulty a fraternal impulse to reach across the leather-covered table and pull the little beggar’s nose.
“Damn it all,” he rapped out, “who asked you for your pity or your advice, I’d like to know? When I want ’em, I won’t forget to ask for ’em, and that’ll be never. I come to you, as I might go to any other business man, with a business proposition. It doesn’t interest you; very well, there’s no more to be said. But as for your advice—and your money—you can keep ’em and be damned to you!”
He passed out between the lines of sniggering, nudging, whispering clerks, his head held high, though his heart was sick with anger and humiliation. So that was what the little beast had thought he was after. Keeping a berth warm for himself. He went hot all over at the thought. He did not even know that he had—for his voice, which he had raised considerably in the heat of the moment, had carried to the farthest corners of the outer office—provided the employees of Elasto, Limited, with one of the most enjoyable moments of their somewhat dull business career.
VII
The “Maid of Athens” left Northfleet six weeks later with a cargo of cement for British Columbia, where she was to load lumber for some port as yet unspecified, in accordance with a charter made before Old Featherstone’s death.