"Bulfinch is, I know, much favored among some financial people," admitted Mr. Sparhawk, with the perky manner of a small bird. "He has at command any sum that can be reasonably asked of him. And, for an accommodation like that, he feels bound to make his demands."
"But my heart's blood!" said Mr. Stroude, his nose going a very deep blue, indeed. "Must he have that?"
"Perhaps," soothed Mr. Sparhawk, "he will not go so far. At any rate, here we are, and you shall soon know."
Off Dock, at Third Street, was a group of old buildings, none in very good repair; through these a brick-paved thoroughfare cut its way. This was Harmony Court, and here a second group of buildings crouched behind the first, as though to avoid the full glare of day. There were a number of shabby tin signs upon a shutter, and perhaps the shabbiest of all bore the inscription: "Amos Bulfinch, Broker."
"So it's here our gentleman keeps himself," grumbled Mr. Stroude. "I knew it was in this neighborhood, but I didn't think it would give quite so dirty a promise."
Mr. Sparhawk led the way into a dim passage which smelt musty, and the walls of which were greasy with the touch of generations. When the perky gentleman said the steps leading to the place of business of Amos Bulfinch had been thinned by the tread of his patrons, he spoke the truth; for thin they were, and very dirty as well. A dim oil lamp, on a landing, lighted the way; and at the top of the steps was a door upon which the money-lender's name occurred once more. They went in.
"Good morning," said Mr. Sparhawk, to a gangling-looking man who sat at a table upon which was spread a quantity of much-handled papers. "This is Mr. Nathaniel Bulfinch, son of Amos," to Stroude.
"Yes, I know," said Stroude. "Glad to see you."
Mr. Nathaniel Bulfinch smiled; his teeth were large, and there were wide spaces between them; his hands were enormous and covered with freckles; he had outstanding ears, an unruly thatch of coarse hair, and pale, watchful eyes.
"What name?" asked Mr. Nathaniel, as he shuffled eagerly among the dirty documents. "Is something due? Eh?"