"Less than ten thousand. And I'd have had none at all if my mind hadn't been full of other things as I was sailing. I forgot to tell my broker to sell."
Dumont was reflecting. Presently he said: "Those curs not only took most of my stock and forced the sale of most of my other securities; they've put me in such a light that outside stockholders wouldn't send me their proxies now. To get back control I must smash them, and I must also acquire pretty nearly half the shares, and hold them till I'm firm in the saddle again."
"You'd better devote yourself for the present to escaping the grave. Why bother about business? You've got enough—too much, as it is. Take a holiday—go away and amuse yourself."
Dumont smiled. "That's what I'm going to do, what I'm doing—amusing myself. I couldn't sleep, I couldn't live, if I didn't feel that I was on my way back to power. Now—in the present market I couldn't borrow on my Woolens stock. I've two requests to make of you."
"Anything that's possible."
"The first is, I want you to lend me four millions, or, rather, negotiate the loan for me, as if it were for yourself. I've got about that amount in Governments, in several good railways and in the property here. The place at Saint X is Pauline's, but the things I can put up would bring four millions and a half at least at forced sale. So, you'll be well secured. I'm asking you to do it instead of doing it myself because, if I'm to win out, the Herron crowd must think I'm done for and nearly dead."
Langdon was silent several minutes. At last he said: "What's your plan?"
Dumont looked irritated—he did not like to be questioned, to take any one into his confidence. But he restrained his temper and said: "I'm going to make a counter-raid. I know where to strike."
"Are you sure?"
Dumont frowned. "Don't disturb yourself," he said coldly. "I can arrange the loan in another way."