“That reminds me,” said Ketchim, turning abruptly to Reed, “what do you intend to do with the girl?”
“Quien sabe?” Reed answered abstractedly. “Send her to a boarding school, I guess. At least, that’s what I told the old man I’d do.”
“So you said before,” Ketchim returned. “But where?”
“Don’t know yet.”
“Well, let me make a suggestion. My daughter Marjorie leaves Tuesday for Conway-on-the-Hudson, where she has been attending Madam Elwin’s Select School for Girls. Suppose you go with her––I’m too busy, myself––and take Carmen. It’s only a few hours’ ride by boat down the river. And the school is without equal. This is Marjorie’s third year there, and she’s simply in love with it.”
Reed began to show signs of interest; and Ketchim, noting the effect of his words, went on briskly:
“Now look here, Molino owes its salvation, and the new company its existence, to that girl. Why shouldn’t they do something to show their gratitude? I say, it is no more than right that the new company should support her while she is in school.”
“By Jove! not a half-bad idea,” commented Harris.
“Certainly not,” continued Ketchim earnestly. “Now fix up everything with her as regards the transfer of the mine to the new company, and then let her go with Marjorie to the Elwin school. We can, if you like, make some agreement with her to the effect that when the company is on its feet and she is receiving dividends, she shall return what it may advance for her schooling, eh?”
“You’d better accept the suggestion, Reed,” put in Harris. “I’ll be here, you know, to keep an eye on the girl; and I’ll take her and Marjorie down to Conway myself, and attend to getting her located right.”