“You offered me $10,000 cash and $2,000 a year.”
“Yes,” admitted Mr. Greener, meekly. “How much do you want?” His look became furtive again. A great weight had been removed from his mind. Rock perceived it and became even more courageous.
“Weddell, Hopkins & Co. and their friends want me to vote the Willetts ticket, Mr. Willetts having promised to make important reforms. My reward is to be the position of assistant secretary, with headquarters in New York, at a salary of $5,000 a year, to say nothing of the backing of Weddell, Hopkins & Co.”
“I’ll do as much and give you $20,000 in cash,” said Mr. Greener, quietly.
“No. I want to join the New York Stock Exchange. I want you to buy me a seat and I want you to give me some of your business. And I want you to lend me $50,000 on my note.”
“Yes?”
“Mr. Greener, you know what I can do; and I know what the absolute control of the Iowa Midland means to you, and what the consolidation with Keokuk & Northern or the lease of the one by the other would do for both of them—and for you. And I want to be your broker. I’ll serve you faithfully, Mr. Greener.”
“Rock,” squeaked Mr. Greener, “shake hands. I understand just how you feel about this. I’ll buy you a seat and I’ll give you all the business I can, and I’ll lend you $100,000 without any note. I think I know you now. The seat you shall have just as soon as it can be bought. My interests shall be your interests in the future.”
“I’ve made all the necessary arrangements. I can buy the seat at a moment’s notice,” said Rock, calmly, though his heart was beating wildly for sheer joy of victory. “It will cost $23,000.”
“Tell Mr. Simpson to make out my personal check for $25,000,” piped the Napoleon of the Street, almost cordially.