“That’s all right,” he answered. “Don’t you worry. I’ve found some one who’ll buy me out to-day if I’ll sell. I just thought I ought to give you first chance.” Something in Russell’s expression caused him to add hastily: “I’ve got a right to sell, haven’t I?”
“Yes, I suppose you have,” replied Russell quietly. “At least, I guess the law would say so, but it seems to me that, in a partnership like this, selling out to a third person isn’t just fair, Stick.”
“Why isn’t it? I’ve offered to sell to you—”
“You know I can’t buy!”
“That’s not my fault! This thing isn’t going to make money: it’s going on the rocks just as soon as Crocker starts in to really fight you! I want to get out while there’s time, and I mean to. If you can’t buy my interest I’ve got a perfect right to sell it to some one else, and I’m going to.”
“Who is it, Stick?” asked Russell.
“Fellow named Throgmorton.”
“One of our fellows?”
“Sure.” Stick nodded vigorously. “He came to see me yesterday, and again to-day. He’s going to give me a hundred and fifty for my share in the business. I’ll sell to you for a hundred and twenty-five, just what I put in. That’s fair enough, isn’t it?”