“You mean that—that you—”
“Dear me, no,” protested the other. “I wouldn’t touch it for half what you put in, Mr. Patterson. You see, I know the business. But there may be others who don’t.”
“I guess there wouldn’t be any one who’d care to buy,” said Stick. Mr. Crocker, he thought, was a bit visionary for a man seemingly so hard-headed.
“Possibly not, possibly not,” Mr. Crocker returned. “Still, if I should hear of any one looking for a small investment of the sort I’ll take the liberty of letting you know. If it isn’t too much of a secret, Mr. Patterson, what does your interest here amount to?”
Stick hesitated. The sum was, of course, ridiculously trifling from the point of view of a person of Mr. Crocker’s wealth. But Stick finally gave the figures, nevertheless. Mr. Crocker’s brows raised incredulously.
“But your partner must have put in very much more then!”
“Only about seventy-five more,” denied Stick.
“You mean to tell me you’ve been doing business here on a capital of something under four hundred dollars?” exclaimed Mr. Crocker. “Astounding! Ridiculous!”
“It was all we had,” replied Stick defensively.
“H’m. Well, you won’t have so much to lose, anyway,” said the other cheerfully. “That’s fortunate, eh?”