“It is a customary consideration in business,” said Sir Archibald.
Archie’s house of cards seemed to be tumbling about his ears. Security? He had not thought of that. He began to drum on the desk with his finger-tips. Presently he got up and began to pace the floor, his hands thrust deep in his pockets, his lips pursed, his brow drawn in a scowl of reflection. Sir Archibald, recognizing 201 his own habit in his son’s perturbation, smiled in a fatherly-fond way. The boy was very dear to him; no doubt about it. But Sir Archibald was not sentimental in the affection.
“Well, sir,” said Archie, by and by, his face clearing as he sat down, “I could offer you security, and good enough security, but it doesn’t seem quite fair.”
Sir Archibald asked the nature of the bond.
“I have a pony and cart, a motor boat and a sloop yacht,” Archie replied, grinning. “I ’low,” he drawled, with a sly drooping of his eyelids, “that they’re worth more than a thousand dollars. Eh, father? What do you think?”
Sir Archibald guffawed.
“The trouble is,” Archie went on, seriously, “that you gave them to me; and it doesn’t seem fair to you to offer them as security. But I tell you, dad,” he declared, “if we don’t make good in this trading cruise I’ll sell those things and do without ’em. It isn’t fair, I know––it seems pretty mean to you––it looks as if I didn’t care for what you’ve given me. But I do care; and you know I care. The trouble is that I want awfully to go trading.”
“It is the only security you have?” 202
“Except mother,” said Archie. “But,” he added, hastily, “I wouldn’t––I won’t––drag a lady into this.”
Sir Archibald threw back his head and roared.