"I remember now," said Luke. "They're said to be among the heaviest real-estate owners in New York, aren't they?"
Porcellis laughed.
"Well, yes, they are," he conceded: "but none of us ever think of that. I doubt if even they do. They leave their estate to their agents to manage, and we leave the story of it to the yellow press to talk about."
"I never knew there was any story connected with it."
"No? Well, for my part, I don't believe there is. Some labor-agitator searched the records and tried to prove they made their first fortune buying condemned muskets from the British garrisons just before the Revolution and selling them as good arms to the Continental Congress. He said they invested the profits in New York land as soon as prices fell after the Declaration of Independence was signed."
"Was it true?" asked Luke.
Porcellis shrugged.
"It was all a long time ago, at any rate," he said, "and the Ruysdaels are very nice people now: you would never guess they were worth more than a million. Besides, Charley—that's my Wall Street cousin—says they've somehow funded their landholdings with one of Old Nap's concerns. I don't know. I don't pretend to understand finance."
Luke felt extremely ignorant.
"Old Nap?" he wondered. "Who's he?"