“I don't mind telling you,” Thorpe interposed upon their silence, “I put on that extra two pounds because you got up that story about applying to the Stock Exchange Committee on a charge of fraud.”
“We didn't get up any story,” said Rostocker, curtly.
“You tried to plant it on us,” Aronson declared.
“One of your own Directors put it about. I thought it was a fake at the time.”
This view of the episode took Thorpe by surprise. As it seemed, in passing, to involve a compliment to his own strategic powers, he accepted it without comment. “Well—it is twenty-five, anyway,” he told them, with firmness.
“Twenty-four,” suggested Aronson, after another momentary pause.
“Not a shilling less than twenty-five,” Thorpe insisted, with quiet doggedness.
“We can always pay our creditors and let you whistle,” Rostocker reminded him, laconically.
“You can do anything you like,” was the reply, “except buy Rubber Consols under twenty-five. It doesn't matter a fig to me whether you go bankrupt or not. It would suit me as well to have you two 'hammered' as to take your money.” Upon the spur of a sudden thought he drew out his watch. “In just two minutes' time to a tick, the price will be thirty.”
“Let's be 'hammered' then!” said Aronson to his companion, with simulated impulsiveness.