“Where else did you suppose?” asked the Judge, puffing for breath, as he eyed the young man.
No answer was forthcoming, and the New Yorker went on:
“The interest on those bonds will cost her twenty-four thousand dollars per year for a year or two, but it will make her shares in the Mfg. Company a real property instead of a paper asset. Besides, I’ve shown her a way to-day, by going into the big pig-iron trust that is being formed, of making twice that amount in half the time. Now, she’s going to talk with you about both these things. Your play is to advise her to do what I’ve suggested.”
“Why should I?” Horace put the question bluntly.
“I’ll tell you,” answered the Judge, who seemed to like this direct way of dealing. “You can make a pot of money by it. And that isn’t all. Tenney and I are not fishing with pin-hooks and thread. We’ve got nets, young man. You tie up to us, and we’ll take care of you. When you see a big thing like this travelling your way, hitch on to it. That’s the way fortunes are made. And you’ve got a chance that don’t come to one young fellow in ten thousand.”
“I should think he had,” put in Mr. Tenney, who had been a silent but attentive auditor.
“What will happen if I decline?” asked Horace.
“She will lose her one hundred and seventy-five thousand dollars and a good deal more, and you will lose your business with her and with everybody else.”
“And your father will lose the precious little he’s got left,” put in Mr. Tenney.
Horace tried to smile. “Upon my word, you are frank,” he said.