“He is! Don’t you think you ought to keep tabs on him?”
“Why?”
“Only because he was interested in the Binney business.”
“So were you.”
“True, but Sir Herbert and I had our meeting and got over it long ago.”
“He wanted to sell out to you?”
“You know all about it, Bates. Binney wanted to sell his Buns to anybody who would pay enough. Of course, in the event of your sticking to your refusal to Bun with him. If you’d agree to do that, he told me, he’d have no reason to sell. But he didn’t want to carry it on alone, nor did he want to go in with anybody else. He wanted to sell outright to me, but his price was prohibitive and he wouldn’t ease up on it a bit, so there was nothing doing. That’s all our story.”
“What did he want to sell you?”
“The good will, the bakery and fixtures,—in England,—why, the Buns, the Binney Buns, lock, stock and barrel.”
“Didn’t he have the recipe for sale?”