“When the purchase of the Empress Music Hall is concluded, what do you propose to do with it?” Jacob enquired.
“Sell it to a company for a hundred and fifty thousand,” Mr. Montague answered, “and divide the profits of the sale amongst the contributors according to their holding. The Marquis holds an agreement signed by me to that effect.”
“That is so,” his lordship acquiesced.
Jacob was frankly puzzled.
“I don’t understand, Mr. Montague, how you got that undertaking,” he confessed. “I saw an interview with Mr. Peter in the papers the other day, in which he denied having sold the ‘Empress’ or even proposing to do so.”
“That’s the commonest bluff going,” the other pointed out. “Always done. And see here, Pratt, this is the truth of the matter. The profit or the loss on the sale of the ‘Empress’ wouldn’t go into Peter’s pocket at all. It would go into the pockets of people with whom he is at present on very bad terms. This sale does them in the eye. That’s the long and short of it.”
“I see no reason,” Jacob decided, after a few moments’ consideration, “why I should not join in this enterprise. If you will allow me, I will telephone for my cheque book.”
“Certainly,” the Marquis agreed, “and in the meantime we can make our peace with the ladies.”