"Find what?" enquired Scapegrace;—"methinks, Stagman, thou dealest in strange words, and usest a jargon hard to be understood of men."
"Find the preamble proved," answered Stagman; "which means we shall be empowered to make the road."
"I suppose then, neighbour," said Scapegrace, "there will be great resort of travellers to this same Cent-per-cent, and much toll levied thereat?"
"The passenger traffic, the prospectus says, will be enormous," answered Stagman; "and the minerals along the line are of course inexhaustible."
"But tell me, neighbour, is this same mode of travel as pleasant for the wayfarers as thou sayest?"
"Exceedingly pleasant for the survivors," answered Stagman. "Doubtless it sometimes happens that a carriage or two will run over a precipice, or the down-train from Little-go may run into the up-train from Hap-hazard, whereby some dozen lives may go amissing; but such accidents are unavoidable, and it is satisfactory to know that on these occasions there never yet has been the slightest blame imputable to any one concerned—the stoker being invariably a most respectable man, and the utmost attention paid to the signals."
"Nay now, neighbour Stagman," said Scapegrace; "all this is mighty comfortable and encouraging, and I long much to have share with thee in this same business."
"I know not," said Stagman, "whether that may be; for the way is narrow, and many there be that would go in thereat. But look you, neighbour, I have promised to do you service if I can, and I will tell you how to set about it. There is an ancient friend of mine, who hath stood me in good stead before now, his name is Mr Scrip; he hath holpen many a one in worse plight than thou art; so that by his aid, from being poor and needy, they have become well to do in the world in a short space. Let us go together to him; he dwelth in Paper Buildings hard by; it may be that he will stand thy friend, and help thee out of this thy difficulty."
So methought the men went both together, and, knocking at the door of Mr Scrip, they were shown into his apartment, which was all garnished with slips of paper, whereon were strange figures and characters written, which no man could read or understand. He wore a coat of many colours, the pockets of which appeared to be stuffed with papers, bearing the like figures; he was always looking either up or down, and he moved to and fro continually, as if he could not sit still in one place for a moment.
"Mr Scrip," said Stagman, "you must know here is a friend of mine who is presently sore bestead, and lacketh thine aid. He would fain have of thee some of those wonderful papers of thine, whereby so many have become so suddenly rich; and, for the sake of our old acquaintance, I pray you pleasure him in this matter."