“That’s it, precisely,” said Mr. Sharpe without a smile.
“You’re joking,” objected Bobby. “My stock in the Brightlight is worth to-day one hundred and fifty dollars a share. My two hundred and sixty thousand dollars’ worth of stock in the Consolidated would not be worth par, even, to-day. Why do you make this discrimination when you are giving the stock-holders of the Consumers’ an exchange of five shares for one, and the stock-holders of the United an exchange of twenty shares for nine?”
“We need both those companies,” calmly explained Sharpe, “and we don’t need the Brightlight.”
“Is that figure the best you will do?”
“Under the circumstances, yes.”
“Very well then,” said Bobby; “good day.”
“By the way, Mr. Burnit,” Sharpe said to him with a return of the charming smile which had been conspicuously absent on this occasion, “we needn’t consider the talk entirely closed as yet. It might be possible that we would be able, between now and the first of the next month, when the consolidation is to be completed, to make you a much more liberal offer to come in with us; to be one of us, in fact.”
Bobby sat down again.
“How soon may I see you about it?” he asked.
“I’ll let you know when things are shaped up right. By the way, Mr. Burnit, you are a very young man yet, and just starting upon your career. Really you ought to look about you a bit and study what advantages you have in the way of personal influence and following.”