"I must confess that it did me good to see that old scoundrel thrown into the street," he said, naïvely. "I know him well. My father had dealings with him several years ago. And the son is a savage, too. He intended to strike you, the coward."
"I'll settle all scores with him one of these days," said Nattie, grimly. Then he added, in a businesslike voice: "I have spoken to Mori about the firm, brother. He thinks favorably of the idea, and is willing to consult with us on the subject. Suppose you show him the books and explain matters."
"I will do that with the greatest pleasure," replied Grant, smilingly. "I presume my brother has told you about how we stand, Mr. Okuma?"
"Oh, bother formalities!" exclaimed Nattie, with characteristic impatience. "Call him Mori. He is one of us."
The young Japanese bowed courteously.
"We are friends," he said, "and I hope we will soon be partners."
The lame youth fervently echoed the wish. Calling attention to the balance sheet he had recently drawn up, he explained the items in detail, proving each statement by ample documents. Mori listened intelligently, nodding his approval from time to time.
Presently Nattie slipped out into the street, returning after a while with a musmee, a native tea-house waitress. The girl, petite and graceful in her light-blue robe and voluminous obi, carried in her hands a lacquered tray, upon which were three dainty cups and a pot of tea.
Sinking to her knees near the desk, the musmee placed the tray on the floor, and proceeded to serve the fragrant liquid. Work was stopped to partake of the usual afternoon refreshments, and the boys chatted on various subjects for five or ten minutes.
Finally Nattie gave the musmee a few sen (Japanese cents) and dismissed her. She performed several elaborate courtesies, and withdrew as silently as she had come. The task of explaining the affairs of the firm of John Manning was resumed.