At eleven o'clock, true to appointment, Bojo called up Daniel Drake on his private wire and received an order to buy at once 500 shares of Seaboard Air Line and sell 500 of Pittsburgh & New Orleans. He turned the order over to Forshay, with the caution of secrecy that had been transmitted to him. This transaction created quite a flurry, and after a consultation Forshay was delegated to sound Bojo.
"Personal order from the old man himself?" he said, when he had reported to him the execution of the order. "Nothing confidential, of course. Happened to hear you telephone."
"Why, no," said Bojo, telephoning in his report.
"Suppose you've an inkling what's up? Naturally you have," said Forshay. "Now, I'm not going to beat around the bush or worm things out of you. We're mighty grateful to you, Tom, for the shot at Indiana Smelter. If you can let us in on anything, why do so. You understand. I've been talking things over with Hauk and Flaspoller. If Drake's going into the market, we don't see why we can't be of use. 'Course, on account of your relations, he probably wouldn't want to do much openly here. Too many eyes on us. But what we want you to put up to him is—we can cover things up as well as any one else. Any orders to be placed quietly, we can work through certain channels—you understand. By the way, doing anything on your own account?"
"Not yet."
"Don't want to talk?"
Bojo shrugged his shoulders.
"I'm quite in the dark, Mr. Forshay," he said cautiously.
Forshay took a few steps thoughtfully about the room, stopping curiously to examine the tape and came back.
"Look here, Tom, if there's anything on a big scale on, why shouldn't we get a whack at it? You see, I'm putting my cards on the table. We consider you a sort of a member of the firm. I made you a proposition once. Perhaps we can better it now." He hesitated, rearranging the sheets on the desk before him. "I'm trying to see how we could work this out. It's not exactly etiquette to give commissions down here—though why the Lord knows. Suppose I work out a scale of salary—to meet, say, certain eventualities. Let me think that over. Meanwhile here's what we'd be glad to do. You can't be calling up Drake out here where any one can be pricking up his ears. Now it may fit in his plans or not, but there's no harm trying. If he wants to operate through us, and have things well covered up, it might be better for you to handle it from my room on a special wire. We'll fix you up in there; glad to." He stopped, considered Bojo thoughtfully, and added: "Tom, we want some of Drake's business. No reason in the world why you shouldn't get it. You know us. You know we can be trusted, and you know we are appreciative—understand?