“All right, Mr. Bruce. When people of that sort turn up we don’t sell ’em Springboks in the City. But there is no harm in you telling me your clients’ names.”
“Not in the least. They are the Anglo-African Finance Corporation.”
Mr. Dodge whistled. “By Jove, they’re the best backing I could have. This is a good turn, Mr. Bruce, and I shan’t forget it. You see, we’re a young firm, and association with well-known houses is good for us in every sense. I’m jolly glad now that Springboks are all right. It would never have done for me to introduce them to a risky piece of business. I am really much obliged to you. And now, how do we stand?”
“Kindly explain.”
“How much ‘com’ do you want?”
“Nothing.”
Mr. Dodge moved his chair backward several feet in sheer amazement. “Nothing, my dear sir! Nonsense! It is a big affair. Shall we say one per cent in cash, or two in shares. I am not very well off just now, or—”
“Pray don’t trouble yourself. I have already secured my commission—five per cent in fully paid shares.”
“But the people who put up the money don’t pay for the privilege as a rule.”
“That I know quite well. This case is different. I am not, nor ever have been, a financial go-between.”