Mr. Elkins looked out of the window, as if he had forgotten us.
“We should push the sale of the Lattimore & Great Western,” said he, “and the Belt Line System.”
“I concur,” said Cornish. “Our interest in those properties is a two-million-dollar cash item.”
“It wouldn’t be two million cents,” said Jim, “if our friends on Wall Street could hear this talk. They’d wait to buy at receiver’s sale after some Black Friday. Of course, that’s what Pendleton and Wade have been counting on from the first.”
“You ought to see Halliday and Pendleton at once,” said I.
“Yes, I think so, too,” he rejoined. “Pendleton’ll pay us more than our price, rather than see the Halliday system get the properties. They’re deep ones; but we ought to be able to play them off against each other, so long as we can keep strong at home. I’ll begin the flirtation at once.”
Cornish, assuming that Jim had fully concurred in his views, bade us a pleasant good-day, and went out.
“My boy,” said Jim, “cheer up. If gloom takes hold of you like this while we’re still running before a favoring wind, it’ll bother you to keep feeling worse and worse, as you ought, as we approach the real thing. Cheer up!”
“Oh, I’m all right!” said I. “I was just trying to make out Cornish’s position.”
“Let’s make out our own,” he replied, “that’s the first thing. Bear in mind that this is a buccaneering proposition, and you’re first mate: remember? Well, Al, we’ve had the merriest cruise in the books. If any crew ever had doubloons to throw to the birds, we’ve had ’em. But, you know, we always draw the line somewhere, and I’m about to ask you to join me in drawing the line, and see just what moral level piracy has risen or sunk to.”