The captain interrupted him. “Go on!” he commanded. “But tell me this fust: What was the name of this rubber concern of ’Bije’s?”
“The Akrae Rubber Company.”
“I see.... Yes, yes.... Akry, hey!... Well, what about it? Tell me the rest.”
“For the first year or two this company did nothing. Then, in March, of the third year, the property was released by Mr. Warren to persons in Para, who were to develop and operate. The terms of his new lease were very advantageous. Royalties were to be paid on a sliding scale, and, from the very first, they were large. The Akrae Company paid enormous dividends.”
“Did, hey? I want to know!”
“Yes. In fact, for twelve years the company’s royalties averaged $50,000 yearly.”
“Whe-e-w!” Captain Elisha whistled. “Fifty thousand a year!” he repeated slowly. “’Bije! ’Bije!”
“Yes. And three years ago the Akrae Company sold its lease, sold out completely to the Para people, for seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”
“Godfreys mighty! Well,” after a moment, “that’s what I’d call a middlin’ fair profit on a twenty thousand dollar investment—not to mention the dividends.”
“Captain,” Sylvester leaned forward now; “Captain,” he repeated, “it is that sale and the dividends which are troubling us. I told you that the Akrae Company was organized with two hundred and fifty shares of stock. Your brother held one hundred in his own name and fifty transferred to him by his dummy, Craven. What I did not tell you was that there were another hundred shares, held by someone, someone who paid ten thousand dollars for them—we know that—and was, therefore, entitled to two-fifths of every dollar earned by the company during its existence, and two-fifths of the amount received for the sale of the lease. So far as we can find out, this stockholder has never received one cent.”