“It’s not likely I’ll have her for another dozen years. Though I’d like to. She’s a fine boat, and somehow we sort of belong to one another. But the owner’s getting on now, and his health’s not what it might be. And no sons. I fancy the other shareholders are not quite pleased with things as it is.”
Ormarr walked up to the captain, and looking straight at him, asked abruptly:
“What about buying them out?”
Jantzen started, and looked inquiringly at Ormarr.
“I mean it.”
“Well—yes, I dare say. It’s a limited company. The biggest shareholder is the owner—and if any one were to buy up all the other shares on the quiet, well, there’s no saying....”
Ormarr and the captain seemed suddenly to have become remarkably intimate with each other—so, at least, it seemed to the others on board.
They remained for a long time in the captain’s cabin, bending over a map of Iceland, discussing routes, tariffs, and traffic in a half-whisper. They talked of nothing but how many vessels and what size would be needed if one company were to take over the whole of the goods and passenger traffic between Iceland-Denmark, Iceland-Norway, and Iceland-Great Britain.
It was late when Ormarr shook hands with the captain and went to his bunk, with the parting words:
“Then the first thing you have to do is to buy up all the shares on the market. After that, get the old man to sell his holding—but to me and no one else!”