“Is that so?” inquired Mayo, sardonically. “You seem to have me sized up as one of these mild and forgiving angels.”
“Now, look here, Mayo, don't let any fool notions stand in the way of your making good. It isn't sense; it isn't business! You have something we want and we're willing to come across for it.”
“What other strings are hitched on?” asked the young man, feigning intractability as his best resource in this puzzling affair.
“Well, of course you give up that fool job you're working on. Quit being a junkman!”
“I'm not a junkman. We're going to float the Conomo.”
“Mayo, talk sense! That job can't be done!”
“So you've been telling every outfitter and banking-man in this city, Fogg! But now you are talking to a man who knows better. And let me say something else to you. I'll do no business with the kind of a man you have shown yourself to be.”
“Don't be a boy, Mayo. I'm here with full powers. We'll take that wreck off your hands.”
“Want to kill her as she stands, do you?”
“It's our business what we do with her after we pay our money,” declared Fogg, bridling.