”—They get up a company; play games with the shares, and get fools to take them, whose money goes down a big hole in the earth.”
“And never comes up again, eh?”
“Never?” said the old man, emphatically.
“Ever been bitten that way?” said Geoffrey, smiling.
“Yes: once,” snarled the other. “They got a hundred pounds out of me over a promising-looking affair—that mine down yonder on the point—Wheal Carnac. Smooth-tongued scoundrel talked me over. Just such a fellow as you.”
“Indeed!” said Geoffrey, smiling.
“Been a lesson to me, though, that I’ve never forgotten.”
“And yet there is money to be made out of mines,” said Geoffrey, quietly. “With proper care, judgment, and good management there are plenty of lapsed undertakings that could be revived, and would pay their shareholders well.”
“Make Wheal Carnac pay, then, and my hundred pounds something better than waste paper.”
“I do not see why not,” said Geoffrey, earnestly.