“Oh, wind!” retorted Onslow. “Don’t tell me!”
“Sir!” exclaimed Shelf.
“Well, if you will have it, the eminence appears to be uncommon tottery, and because of your miserable meanness you’re doing your best to bring it over. It’s just trifles like this that tell. Consider what will happen after the catastrophe. There’ll be an inquiry that will lay everything bare down to the very bed-plates. Do you think they won’t jump on this point at once? The stuff is fully insured up to New Orleans; it isn’t insured on the levee, and in the streets, where the thefts are notorious. Doesn’t this drop an instantaneous hint that it was never intended to get so far?”
“No,” said Shelf sourly. “I don’t see that it does.”
“Then,” retorted Onslow, “I differ from you entirely; and as I’m to be the active agent in this affair, and have to take the first and gravest physical risk, I do not choose to have my retreat unnecessarily hampered. I must insist upon your recalling Fairfax for additional instructions. What extra insurance has got to be paid.”
“Then pay it yourself,” angrily exclaimed Mr. Shelf.
“That’s outside the bargain. Working expenses are your contribution to the partnership. And besides, for another thing, I couldn’t plank down that money if I wished. I haven’t it in the world.”
“Mr. Onslow, I believe you. Will you extend the same courtesy to me when I tell you that if I were to attempt raising even such a trivial sum as £500 to-day it would precipitate me into bankruptcy to-morrow.”
“Whew! Are you nipped as badly as all that?”
“I have a remorseless drain on me which drinks up the profits of this business like a great sponge. It is a domestic drain, and I cannot resist it.”