“Perhaps a half interest.”
She considered this statement.
“That is too much to give away, Mr. Burthon. The aircraft is already built and tested. It is a proved success, and the best aëroplane in all the world. Why should we give a half interest in return for a little money?”
He hesitated; then replied coldly:
“Because the invention is useless without the means to publicly demonstrate it, and establish it on a paying basis. At present your airship is without the slightest commercial value. Once exploited, the half interest you retain would make your fortune.”
Her brow wrinkled with a puzzled look.
“I’ll talk to Steve about it,” she said. “But, if he consents, where could I find such an—an ‘angel’?”
“In me,” he answered coolly. “If, on investigation, I find your brother’s airship to be one half as practical as you represent it, and doubtless believe it to be, I will deposit ten thousand dollars in the bank to exploit it—in return for a half interest—and agree to furnish more money whenever it is required.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Orissa, doubtfully. “I—I’ll talk with my brother.”
“Very well,” he replied. “But beware of confiding in strangers. I am your friend, and will guard your interests faithfully. Talk with your brother, but with no one else.”