"Now, Jim, down to business!"
Stuart looked up with a start, recovered himself and replied sharply:
"All right—fire away."
Bivens drew a chair close, rubbed his slender hands and began in quiet tones:
"You can see that I have the cash. What I must have to do the big thing I've dreamed is a right-hand man whom I can trust with my money, my body, and my soul. He must be a man with brains, and far-seeing eyes. A man who will fight to the death and be loyal with every breath, who will work day and night, a man of iron nerve, iron muscle and a heart of steel. Come in with me, Jim, for all you're worth, with all your brain and will and personality, without a single reservation, and I'll give you a partnership of one-fourth interest in my annual income and I'll guarantee that it shall never be less than a million a year."
Stuart sprang to his feet and stared at Bivens, gasping!
"You mean this—are you serious?"
A friendly smile lighted the dark face as he slowly replied:
"Certainly I'm serious. And my proposition is a sound one from a business point of view, otherwise I wouldn't make it, though you are the only man in the world who might tempt me to do a foolish thing for purely sentimental reasons. Still the offer is not made because you fought the battle of a poor white boy one day down South a long time ago. I've made it because I know you're worth it."
Stuart shook his head.