“My dear Mr. Croyden:
“We have a customer who is interested in the Virginia Development Company. He has purchased the Bonds and the stock of Royster & Axtell, from the bank which held them as collateral. He is willing to pay you par for your Bonds, without any accrued interest, however. If you will consent to sell, the Company can proceed without reorganization but, if you decline, he will foreclose under the terms of the mortgage. We have suggested the propriety and the economy to him—since he owns or controls all the stock—of not purchasing your bonds, and, frankly, have told him it is worse than bad business to do so. But he refuses to be advised, insisting that he must be the sole owner, and that he is willing to submit to the additional expense rather than go through the tedious proceeding for foreclosure and sale. We are prepared to honor a sight-draft with the Bonds attached, or to pay cash on presentation and transfer. We shall be obliged for a prompt reply.
“Yours very truly,
“R. J. Blaxham.”
“What the devil!——”
He read it a second time. No, he wasn’t asleep—it was all there, typewritten and duly signed. Two hundred thousand dollars!—honor sight draft, or pay cash on presentation and transfer!
“What the devil!” he said, again. Then he passed it across to Macloud. “Read this aloud, will you,—I want to see if I’m quite sane!”
Macloud was at his favorite occupation—blowing smoke rings through one another, and watching them spiral upward toward the ceiling.
“I beg your pardon!” he said, as Croyden’s words roused him from his meditation. “I must have been half asleep. What did you say—read it?” taking the letter.