“But Ed, Gibbons and Swandike had started buying already at three cents when the market closed this evening.... Klein got wise an’ll be right there with bells on first thing in the morning. The market’ll go crazy on it....”
“Unless the fellers doin the dirty work change their minds. I know that stuff through and through, Viler.... Sounds like a topnotch proposition.... But I’ve examined the books of too many bankrupts.”
Viler got to his feet and threw his cigar into the cuspidor. “Well do as you like, damn it all.... I guess you must like commuting from Hackensack an working twelve hours a day....”
“I believe in workin my way up, that’s all.”
“What’s the use of a few thousands salted away when you’re old and cant get any satisfaction? Man I’m goin in with both feet.”
“Go to it Viler.... You tellem,” muttered Thatcher as the other man stamped out slamming the office door.
The big office with its series of yellow desks and hooded typewriters was dark except for the tent of light in which Thatcher sat at a desk piled with ledgers. The three windows at the end were not curtained. Through them he could see the steep bulk of buildings scaled with lights
and a plankshaped bit of inky sky. He was copying memoranda on a long sheet of legal cap.
FanTan Import and Export Company (statement of assets and liabilities up to and including February 29) ... Branches New York, Shanghai, Hongkong and Straights Settlements....
| Balance carried over | $345,789.84 |
| Real Estate | 500,087.12 |
| Profit and Loss | 399,765.90 |