“Indeed?” said the Colonel. “Possibly that is where my offer came from. Who was it?”
“It was Jim Hegan,” said Montague.
“Oh!” said the Colonel. “But of course,” he added, “Hegan would do his negotiating through an agent.”
“Let me give you my card,” said the Colonel, after a pause. “It is possible that I may be able to interest someone in the matter myself. I have friends who believe in the future of the South. How many shares do you suppose you could get me, and what do you suppose they would cost?”
Montague got out a pencil and paper, and proceeded to recall as well as he could the location of the various holdings of Northern Mississippi. He and his new acquaintance became quite engrossed in the subject, and they talked it out from many points of view. By the time that Montague's friend arrived, the Colonel was in possession of all the facts, and he promised that he would write in a very few days.
And then, after dinner, Montague went upstairs and joined his mother. “I met an old friend of father's this evening,” he said.
“Who was it?” she asked.
“Colonel Cole,” he said, and Mrs. Montague looked blank.
“Colonel Cole?” she repeated.
“Yes, that was the name,” said Montague. “Here is his card,” and he took it out. “Henry W. Cole, Seattle, Washington,” it read.