“Oh!” cried Curtiss, with sudden light. “Is it the Hill Manufacturing Company?”
“It is,” said Montague.
It was Curtiss's turn to stare in amazement. “My God!” he gasped. “Do you mean that you have thrown up the sponge for that?”
“I haven't thrown up the sponge, by any means,” was the answer. “But that's why Price wants to get rid of me.”
“But, man!” cried the other. “How perfectly absurd!”
Montague fixed his glance upon him.
“Would you advise me to stand for it?” he asked.
“But, my dear fellow!” said Curtiss. “I've got some stock in that company myself.”
Montague sat in silence—he could think of nothing to say after that.
“What in the world do you suppose you have gone into?” protested the other. “A charity enterprise?” Then he stopped, seeing the look of pain upon his friend's face.