Max was flattered by that last sentence.
“Well,” he said smiling, “I really think it would be more satisfactory if I had—well, some confirmation of all these comments.”
“You can obtain that at once by going out to Constantinople,” declared Adam. “You’ll be out and home in ten days, and I’ll go with you,” he added persuasively.
“Well, I shall have to consider it,” the younger man replied after a brief pause.
“There is very little time to consider,” Adam said. “The French people are at work, and if they raise the purchase price to Muhil we shall be compelled to do the same.”
“But we can get an option, I suppose?”
“I have it. But it expires in ten days from to-morrow. After that Muhil will make the best terms he can with the French. The latter will have to pay through the nose, no doubt, but they’ll get it, without doubt. Their Embassy is helping them.”
“And how long can I have to decide?”
“To reach Constantinople in time we have six days more. We might then take the Orient Express from Paris and just do it. But,” he added, “of course if your inclination is against the journey and inquiry I hope you’ll allow me to assess it before somebody else. Personally,” he laughed, “I can’t afford to miss this chance of making a fortune. This, remember, is no wild mining speculation: it’s solid, bed-rock enterprise. The Servians surveyed the line four years ago and got out plans and estimates. There’s a printed copy of them at the Servian Consulate here in London. So it’s all cut-and-dried.”
“Well I hope, Adam, you’ll allow me a little time to reflect. Six thousand is a decent sum, you know.”