"If my little girl wanted the whole Wabash System I'd buy it for her to-morrow," said Druce, with rising anger.
"Lord! what a slump that would make in the market!" cried the General, his feeling of discomfort being momentarily overcome by the magnificence of Druce's suggestion. "However, all this doesn't need to make any difference in our friendship. If I can be of any assistance financially I shall only be too——"
"Oh, I need your financial assistance!" sneered Druce. He took his defeat badly. However, in a minute or two, he pulled himself together and seemed to shake off his trouble.
"What nonsense I am talking," he said when he had obtained control of himself. "We all need assistance now and then, and none of us know when we may need it badly. In fact, there is a little deal I intended to speak to you about to-day, but this confounded business drove it out of my mind. How much Gilt Edged security have you in your safe?"
"About three millions' worth," replied the General, brightening up, now that they were off the thin ice.
"That will be enough for me if we can make a dicker. Suppose we adjourn to your office. This is too public a place for a talk."
They went out together.
"So there is no ill-feeling?" said the General, as Druce arose to go with the securities in his handbag.
"No. But we'll stick strictly to business after this, and leave social questions alone. By the way, to show that there is no ill-feeling, will you come with me for a blow on the sea? Suppose we say Friday. I have just telegraphed for my yacht, and she will leave Newport to-night. I'll have some good champagne on board."
"I thought sailors imagined Friday was an unlucky day!"