“Hey?” Captain Elisha leaned forward. “Say that again!” he commanded sharply.
Sylvester repeated his statement. “He got the concession by paying twenty thousand dollars to the government of Brazil,” he continued. “To raise the twenty thousand he formed a stock company of two hundred and fifty shares at one hundred dollars each. One hundred of these shares were in his own name. Fifty were in the name of one ‘Thomas A. Craven,’ a clerk at that time in his office. Craven was only a dummy, however. Do you understand what I mean by a dummy?”
“I can guess. Sort of a wooden image that moved when ’Bije pulled the strings. Like one of these straw directors that clutter up the insurance companies, ’cordin’ to the papers. Yes, yes; I understand well enough. Go ahead! go ahead!”
“That’s it. The fifty shares were in Craven’s name, but they were transferred in blank and in Mr. Warren’s safe. Together with his own hundred, they gave him control and a voting majority. That much we know by the records.”
“I see. But this rubber con—contraption wa’n’t really wuth anything, was it?”
“Worth anything! Captain Warren, I give you my word that it was worth more than all the rest of the investments that your brother made during his lifetime.”
“No!” The exclamation was almost a shout.
“Why, yes, decidedly more. Does that surprise you, Captain?”
Captain Elisha did not answer. He was regarding the lawyer with a dazed expression. He breathed heavily.
“What’s the matter?” demanded the watchful Kuhn, his gaze fixed upon his client’s face. “Do you know anything—”