The young man’s face grew red underneath its spots of grease, and he drew back a step.
“You have spent your own time to an equal amount, so we’ll allow one expenditure to balance the other.”
“My time is of no account. I’m a loafer.”
“I could not accept any money, sir.”
The two looked at one another for a moment, and gentlemen understand each other even though one wears the greasy clothes of a mechanic.
“I beg your pardon,” said Stranleigh, softly. “Now, let me ask you one question. Have you given an option on this business to anyone?”
Sterling glanced up in surprise.
“Why, yes, I did give an option to an Englishman. By the way, you’re English, are you not?”
“I was born over there.”
“This Englishman wasn’t your sort. He was a most plausible talker, and as I told you, my judgment of men is sometimes at fault. I gave him an option for two months, but I think all he wanted was to get an automobile for nothing. He said he represented a syndicate of English capitalists, some of whom were in New York, and he borrowed the only car I had completed at that time. That was four months ago. Like the preacher after the futile collection, I wanted to get back my hat at least, but although I wrote letter after letter, I never received any answer. It wasn’t worth my while to set the police on his track, so I tried to forget him, and succeeded until you spoke of an option just now.”