“Then you started in business,” sagely deduced Mr. Squinch, with the joined finger-tip attitude of a triumphant cross-examiner, “having but a total cash capitalization of five thousand dollars.”
“Exactly,” admitted Wallingford, chuckling. There was no reservation whatever about Mr. Wallingford. He seemed to regard the matter as a very fair joke.
“You are a very bright young man,” Mr. Squinch complimented him, and that opinion was reflected in the faces of the others. “And what is your plan of loans, Mr. Wallingford?”
“Also very simple,” replied the bright young man. “The members are in loan groups, corresponding to the lodges of secret societies, and, in fact, their meetings are secret meetings. Each member pays in a dollar and a quarter a week, and the quarter goes into the expense fund.”
The five individually and collectively nodded their heads.
“Expense fund,” interpolated Doc Turner, his blue-tipped nose wrinkling with the enjoyment transmitted from his whetting palms, “meaning yourself.”
“Exactly,” agreed Wallingford. “The dollar per week goes into the loan fund, but at the start there will be no loans made until there is a thousand dollars in the fund. Ten per cent. of this will be taken out for loan investigations and the payment of loan officers.”
“Meaning, again, yourself,” squeaked Andy Grout, his vertical lines making obtuse bends.
“Exactly,” again agreed Wallingford. “Twenty-five per cent. goes to the grand annual loan, and the balance will be distributed in loans as follows: One loan of two hundred and fifty dollars, one loan of one hundred, one of fifty, four of twenty-five and fifteen of ten dollars each. These loans will be granted without other security than an unindorsed note of hand, payable in four years, without interest, and the loans will be made at the discretion of the loan committee, meeting in secret session.”