"And how is that?" inquired his host with innocent curiosity.
"When you've made your proposition, I'll tell you," said the other, with a smile. "I'll amplify at the proper time."
"Oh, very well, then," replied the capitalist, apologetically. "Very well." But at this last sticking point he temporized again. His caller gave him no help, but waited in silence until he was ready.
"Mr. O'Connor," said Mr. Murch, "I have a high opinion of your underwriting ability. It is pretty well understood that you have had immediate charge of the underwriting of the Guardian for some years past, and they have been much more profitable years for your company than for ours."
He paused.
"The figures show that," said the other man.
"I do not conceal from you the fact that we are not wholly satisfied with Mr. Wellwood's operations. I have talked the matter over unofficially with two or three of my fellow directors, and I believe they would ratify officially the offer which I am going to make you. This offer is made upon certain agreements, restrictions, and presumptions. It is made contingent on your ability to carry out these agreements—in short, to deliver the goods."
"I understand," said O'Connor, with composure.
"The offer of which I speak is based on your taking the presidency of the Salamander, with a five-year contract, at a salary of twenty thousand dollars a year. You will be required to purchase as a matter of good faith—backing your entry, as it were—a certain amount of the company's stock; indeed, I presume you would wish to do so, and that is a feature that can be easily arranged. And we, of the Salamander, want a man qualified to turn the company into a money maker, and who can assure us at the same time of a reasonable increase in our premium income—say in the five years, from two and a half up to three millions."
O'Connor smiled rather cynically.