“Then you would like to be a holder, sir?”
“One moment, Mr Reed,” said the Major warmly. “You have been my guest; you have seen my child. Mr Reed, my one thought in life is to be ready to feel at death that I have left her modestly independent of the world, single, married, according to her wishes. I ask you, then, as an English gentleman—a man of honour, shall I be safe in taking up some shares pretty largely in this venture?”
“My dear sir,” said Clive quietly, “no man can be perfectly certain about a mine. It may grow richer, it may fail, but this was my father’s pet scheme; he was a man of great insight and experience, and I believe in the mine to such an extent, that I am ready to trust it and recommend it to my friends.”
“Then you think it will pay large dividends?”
“After what you have seen to-day, can you doubt it?”
“No,” said the Major, after a few moments’ thought, “I cannot doubt either you or the mine, Mr Reed, and this evening I shall write to my broker to get me—a—a—few—”
Clive Reed smiled.
“You will write in vain, sir. I doubt very much whether you could get any.”
“Indeed! Too late?”
“They never went upon the market, sir, but were distributed amongst a few friends of my father. You might get some, but only at an exorbitant price, which I would not advise you to give; but I could let you have some of mine.”