“You have a very neat little suite of offices here, Mr. Burnit,” he commented, seating himself gracefully and depositing his gray hat, his gray cane and his gray gloves carefully to one side of him upon Bobby’s desk.
“I’m afraid they are a little too nice for practical purposes,” Bobby confessed. “I have found that business isn’t a parlor game.”
“Precisely what I came to see you about,” said Mr. Sharpe. “I understand you have been a trifle unfortunate, but that is because you did not go into the regular channels. An established and paying corporation is the only worth-while proposition, and if you have not yet settled upon an investment I would like to suggest that you become interested in our local Brightlight Electric Company.”
“I thought there was no gas or electric stock for sale,” said Bobby slowly, clinging still to a vague impression that he had gained five or six years before.
“Not to the public,” replied Mr. Sharpe, smiling, “and there would not have been privately except for the necessity of a reorganization. The Brightlight needs more capital for expansion, and I have too many other interests, even aside from the Consumers’ Electric Light and Power and the United Gas and Fuel Companies, to spare the money myself—and the Brightlight is too good to let the general public in on.” He smiled again, quite meaningly this time. “This is quite confidential, of course,” he added.
Bobby bowed his acknowledgment of the confidence which had been reposed in him, and generously began at once to reconstruct his impressions of the impossible Mr. Sharpe. You couldn’t believe all you heard, you know.
“The Brightlight,” went on Mr. Sharpe, “is at present capitalized for two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, and is a good ten-per-cent.-dividend-paying stock at the present moment; but its business is not growing, and I propose to take in sufficient capital to raise the Brightlight to a half-million-dollar corporation, clear off its indebtedness and project certain extensions. I understand that you have the necessary amount, and here is the proposition I offer you. Brightlight stock is now quoted at a hundred and seventy-two. We will double its present capitalization, and you may take up the extra two hundred and fifty thousand dollars’ worth of its stock at par, or about three-fifths of its actual value. That is a bargain to be snapped at, Mr. Burnit.”
Did Bobby Burnit snap at this proposition? He did not. Bobby had learned caution through his two bitter failures, and of caution is born wisdom.
“Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars’ worth of stock in a five-hundred-thousand-dollar corporation won’t do for me,” he declared with a firmness that was pleasant to his own ears. “I don’t care to go into any proposition in which I have not the controlling interest.”
Mr. Sharpe, remembering the details of Bobby’s Trimmer and Company experiment, hastily turned his imminent smile of amusement into a merely engaging one.