Nattie walked over to the window leading into the court, and glanced thoughtfully at the boxed walks, now overgrown with weeds. He plucked a sprig of bamboo, and returned to the center of the room. There was a smile upon his face.
"I have a plan, brother, which may work and may not," he said. "It can be tried."
Grant leaned back and eyed him in silence.
"You remember Mori Okuma?" continued Nattie.
"Of course. I know him well. He returned to Japan with you. He has been at Yale for several years. What about him?"
"Coming over on the steamer I became very chummy with him. He is as nice a Japanese youth as you can find in sight of the volcano of Fuji San, which about includes the islands, you know. Well, his people are dead, and he is the sole heir to over fifty thousand dollars in good hard money."
"And you propose?"
"To ask him to go in with us," replied Nattie, quietly. "He told me he wished to invest his wealth if possible. He thought of returning to the States, but he can be talked out of that. What do you think of it?"
Grant was visibly excited. He arose from his chair and paced back and forth with queer little steps. He ran one white hand over his brow in a way he had. His face lost some of its careworn expression, and he finally became radiant with hope.
"Nattie, if we can induce him to form a firm with us our fortunes are made," he said, eagerly. "Twenty thousand dollars, not half of his capital, will square up everything and place us in running order. Just think of it! It will mean the defeat of many ill-wishers; it will save father's name from the disgrace of a failure, and it'll keep the old house going. When can you see him? How about bringing him here this afternoon? I can show him the books in a jiffy."