“You will win,” corrected Tompkinson. “We’ll see that you do.”
“Let me see if I understand you,” said Joe. “My investment is purely a paper one. I don’t advance a dollar. You credit me on your books with having bought a certain amount of stock. If the market registers a rise I get the profits. If it’s a loss you bear it and wipe the whole thing off your books.”
“You couldn’t have put it better,” said Tompkinson. “And what is more, I’ll guarantee that before this year is over you’ll have cleared fifty thousand dollars.”
“In other words,” said Joe, “you’re offering to make me a present of a clean fifty thousand dollars.”
“Substantially that,” agreed Tompkinson. “Though I would prefer to put it that we are offering you an opportunity to make fifty thousand dollars.”
“You guarantee that?” asked Joe, with a pretended show of excitement that elicited a gleam of satisfaction from the eyes of both his companions.
“Absolutely,” declared Tompkinson. “So surely, in fact, that I’d have no hesitation about giving you the fifty thousand in cash at once if you’d prefer it that way. That’s how sure I feel that I could make the money for you in the way I say.”
“But why should you do this?” asked Joe, pretending bewilderment. “I scarcely know you. I have no claim upon you. I’ve never done anything for you.”
“Not yet,” drawled Tompkinson, as he lighted a fresh cigar. “But of course there’s no knowing but what you might do something for us in the future.”