“But if you fail,” returned John, “what then? What’ll be the colour of our bank account in that case?”
“I will pay all expenses,” said Morris, with an inward struggle; “you shall lose nothing.”
“Well,” said John, with a laugh, “if the ex-s are yours, and half-profits mine, I don’t mind remaining here for a couple of days.”
“A couple of days!” cried Morris, who was beginning to get angry and controlled himself with difficulty; “why, you would do more to win five pounds on a horse-race!”
“Perhaps I would,” returned the Great Vance; “it’s the artistic temperament.”
“This is monstrous!” burst out Morris. “I take all risks; I pay all expenses; I divide profits; and you won’t take the slightest pains to help me. It’s not decent; it’s not honest; it’s not even kind.”
“But suppose,” objected John, who was considerably impressed by his brother’s vehemence, “suppose that Uncle Masterman is alive after all, and lives ten years longer; must I rot here all that time?”
“Of course not,” responded Morris, in a more conciliatory tone; “I only ask a month at the outside; and if Uncle Masterman is not dead by that time you can go abroad.”
“Go abroad?” repeated John eagerly. “Why shouldn’t I go at once? Tell ’em that Joseph and I are seeing life in Paris.”
“Nonsense,” said Morris.