“Come over to the office, Mr. Bradhurst, and I will show you the documents and the proofs. I can there better explain what has been done, what our position is to-night, and what we shall be able to accomplish. I have been studying Board of Trade methods ever since I entered Mr. Whitemore’s office. With the grasp on the market I have at this moment, through my employer’s holdings, I see my way clear, with your backing to corner the product and force the price to almost any figure within reason. In a week the Jarrett, Palmer & Carrington pool won’t have a leg to stand on.”
“All right; I’ll go over with you, Vance. But before we go we’re going to have dinner. You look as though you needed a square meal.”
“I’ve scarcely had a bite all day,” admitted the boy; “but I don’t feel hungry at that.”
“That’s because you’re all worked up over this matter and the unfortunate affair at your office. Take a wash and we’ll go down to the dining-room.”
The clock in Mr. Whitemore’s office struck the hour of midnight when the conference between Vance and William Bradhurst came to an end.
“If for no other reason than because I owe you a good turn I’ll see you through this, my boy,” said the big man cheerfully. “But in addition to that, I see the opportunity for both of us to make a million or more easily.”
“You are risking the money, Mr. Bradhurst, and the profits over and above the figure at which corn closed to-day will rightfully be yours. I am satisfied to save Mr. Whitemore’s interest as it now stands.”
“Vance Thornton, I am backing your information and experience with my money. It is a fair partnership. If we win out the profits are to be evenly divided, do you understand? Only on that condition will I go in.”
“But,” almost gasped the boy, “the profits may run into——”
“Millions. Exactly. In which case you will be a millionaire at eighteen. Do you object?”