"Yes, I am," she admitted. "It's a really first-class business investment, isn't it?"
"Yes, I think it is," replied Westlake; "as good as any stock in an untried company can be, anyhow. At least it's an excellent investment chance."
"That's what I thought," she said. "I'm judging, of course, only by what you say, and by my impression of Mr. Turner. It seems to me that almost anything he goes into should be highly successful."
Mr. Westlake slowly whirled his thumbs in the other direction, three separate twirls, and stopped them.
"Yes," he agreed. "I'm investing the money in just Sam myself, although the scheme itself looks like a splendid one."
Miss Westlake was silent a moment while she twisted at the button on her father's coat sleeve.
"I don't quite understand this matter of stock control," she went on presently. "You've explained it to me, but I don't seem quite to get the meaning of it."
"Well, it's like this," explained Mr. Westlake. "Sam Turner, with only a paltry investment, say about five thousand dollars, wants to be able to dictate the entire policy of a million-dollar concern. In other words, he wants a majority of stock, which will let him come into the stock-holders' meetings, and vote into office his own board of directors, who will do just what he says; and if he wanted to he might have them vote the entire profits of the concern for his salary."
"But, father, he wouldn't do anything like that," she protested, shocked.
"No, he probably wouldn't," admitted Mr. Westlake, "but I wouldn't be wise to let him have the chance, just the same."