He briefly described the prevalent car shortage, with the reasons therefore.
“You’ll get no ore cars until the war’s over, and maybe not then,” he pursued. “But I have a standing contract that can’t be broken, for so many cars a month—and I’m getting them. Ye see? Aiblins, now, that contract’s worth something; set your own figure on it. For the rest, I’ll buy stock at your own price, a controlling interest.”
“Sandy, who’d ever trust you once ye got your nose into this thing?” Mrs. Crump laughed scornfully. “Not me!”
“Then don’t trust me,” returned Sandy, meekly, although the veins in his temples swelled into blue cords. “Don’t trust me. Hire your own lawyers to draw up the matter, protect your interests fully. Give me charge of the actual mine, and then sit back an’ draw down the coin from your interest; savvy? If I’m not able to make millions out o’ this here mine, I’ll quit! Ain’t that frank talk? Ain’t I human? I tell ye, when that man Shea came along and turned back that money, I learned something!”
“Where’s Thady Shea now?” demanded Mrs. Crump.
“Went to St. Johns night before last, with Fred Ross and Bill Murray. Said he’d be here later, maybe. I like that man! Something about him kind o’ draws you. Aiblins, he’d be grand in the legislature, now! Eh? Well, well, about this mine matter; as I say, use any means ye like. I don’t blame you for not trusting me. But it’s a good thing and I’ll buy into it, savvy? Protect yourself, certainly. But why not let me buy into it? I have a bit of influence; aiblins, now, I’d be able to help production here an’ there, and to furnish no end of money for the work.”
The snap had gone out of Mrs. Crump’s blue eyes. They were suddenly warm, kindly, unguarded. Thady Shea in the legislature! Why not? And Sandy was dead right. Everyone seemed to be drawn to Thady Shea.
There was some subsequent discussion to which Mackintavers himself put an end.
“Let it hang fire for a day or so, Mis’ Crump. If ye don’t mind, I’ll hang around and look over the place and vicinity for my own self. Mebbe Shea will get back; the place is in his name, ain’t it? Understood so.”
“Yes,” assented Mrs. Crump, unthinking. “And each of us owns a third interest, or at least, so it’ll be arranged.”