Mr. Waddington's eyes were glittering in a peculiar way. He leaned forward and tapped Officer Garroway on the knee.
"Say, listen! I like your face, Larrabee."
"My name is Garroway."
"Never mind about your name. It's your face I like. Say, listen, do you want to make a pile of money?"
"Yes, sir."
"Well, I don't mind telling you that I've taken a fancy to you, and I'm going to do something for you that I wouldn't do for many people. Have you ever heard of the Finer and Better Motion Picture Company of Hollywood, Cal.?"
"No, sir."
"That's the wonderful thing," said Mr. Waddington in a sort of ecstasy. "Nobody's ever heard of it. It isn't one of those worn-out propositions like the Famous Players that everybody's sick and tired of. It's new. And do you know what I'm going to do? I'm going to let you have a block of stock in it for a quite nominal figure. It would be insulting you to give it to you for nothing, which is what I'd like to do, of course. But it amounts to the same thing. This stock here is worth thousands and thousands of dollars, and you shall have it for three hundred. Have you got three hundred?" asked Mr. Waddington, anxiously.
"Yes, sir, I have that sum, but...."
Mr. Waddington waved his cigar.