He could not piece it together. Why had Zaanan Frame wanted him to know of Michael Moran’s new business venture? But, even more difficult of solution, why had Zaanan wanted him to board with the Widow Stickney?
Marie Ducharme insisted on obtruding herself into his puzzlings. It was absurd, he knew, but had she anything to do with the matter?
CHAPTER VI
On the day the mills commenced operating Jim Ashe called for a statement of the company’s condition from Mr. Grierson. As Jim expected, it proved to be disquieting. The facts were that the mills had cost upward of two hundred thousand dollars; there was still owing for machinery and materials some thirty thousand dollars; there was seven thousand dollars cash in the bank. The weekly payroll was over two thousand dollars. Other operating expenses, with the cost of supplies and timber, brought this sum up to five thousand dollars a week—and as yet not a penny’s worth of manufactured product had been turned out or shipped.
“According to this,” Jim said to Mr. Grierson, “we can run a week. Then what?”
“Then,” said Mr. Grierson, his voice dry and rattling like one of the leaves of his ledger, “we’ll have to have some more money.”
“Oh,” said Jim, grimly, “that’s all there is to it, eh? Well, where’ll we get it? Supposing we are able to begin shipments by the end of next week—how soon can we expect returns?”
“Thirty days at the best.”
“And in that thirty days we’ll be spending nearly thirty thousand dollars—which we haven’t got. I have heard of working capital before, but I never comprehended what a pleasant thing it was to have. Where does one get money, Grierson?”
“From the bank.”