“And the Captain of M‘Alcohol?”
“A crack distiller.”
“And the Factor for Glentumblers?”
“His principal customer. But, bless you, my dear St Mirrens! don’t bother yourself any more about the committee. They are as respectable a set—on paper at least—as you would wish to see of a summer’s morning, and the beauty of it is that they will give us no manner of trouble. Now about the allocation. You and I must restrict ourselves to a couple of thousand shares a-piece. That’s only a third of the whole, but it won’t do to be greedy.”
“But, Bob, consider! Where on earth are we to find the money to pay up the deposits?”
“Can you, the principal director of the Glenmutchkin Railway, ask me, the secretary, such a question? Don’t you know that any of the banks will give us tick to the amount ‘of half the deposits.’ All that is settled already, and you can get your two thousand pounds whenever you please merely for the signing of a bill. Sawley must get a thousand according to stipulation—Jobson, Heckles, and Grabbie, at least five hundred a-piece, and another five hundred, I should think, will exhaust the remaining means of the committee. So that, out of our whole stock, there remain just five thousand shares to be allocated to the speculative and evangelical public. My eyes! won’t there be a scramble for them!”
Next day our prospectus appeared in the newspapers. It was read, canvassed, and generally approved of. During the afternoon, I took an opportunity of looking into the Tontine, and whilst under shelter of the Glasgow Herald, my ears were solaced with such ejaculations as the following:—
“I say, Jimsy, hae ye seen this grand new prospectus for a railway tae Glenmutchkin?”
“Ay—it looks no that ill. The Hieland lairds are pitting their best fit foremost. Will ye apply for shares?”
“I think I’ll tak’ twa hundred. Wha’s Sir Polloxfen Tremens?”