Bones in London. Wallace Edgar
reputedly a miser, and his language was of such violence that theinfant Augustus was invariably hurried to the nursery on such rareoccasions as old Saul paid a family visit. His inheritance had come toBones as in a dream, from the unreality of which he had not yetawakened.
"I must confess, Mr. Tibbetts," said Fred, "that I have often hadqualms of conscience about your uncle, and I have been on the point ofcoming round to see you several times. This morning I said to mybrother, 'Joe,' I said, 'I'm going round to see Tibbetts.' Forgive thefamiliarity, but we talk of firms like the Rothschilds and the Morganswithout any formality."
"Naturally, naturally, naturally," murmured Bones gruffly.
"I said: 'I'll go and see Tibbetts and get it off my chest. If hewants those ships back at the price we paid for them, or even less, heshall have them.' 'Fred,' he said, 'you're too sensitive forbusiness.' 'Joe,' I said, 'my conscience works even in businesshours.'"
A light dawned on Bones and he brightened visibly.
"Ah, yes, my dear old Pole," he said almost cheerily, "I understand.You diddled my dear old uncle – bless his heart – out of money, and youwant to pay it back. Fred" – Bones rose and extended his knucklyhand – "you're a jolly old sportsman, and you can put it there!"
"What I was going to say – " began Fred seriously agitated.
"Not a word. We'll have a bottle on this. What will youhave – ginger-beer or cider?"
Mr. Fred suppressed a shudder with difficulty.
"Wait, wait, Mr. Tibbetts," he begged; "I think I ought to explain. Wedid not, of course, knowingly rob your uncle – "
"No, no, naturally," said Bones, with a facial contortion which passedfor a wink. "Certainly not. We business men never rob anybody. Ali, bring the drinks!"
"We did not consciously rob him," continued Mr. Fred desperately, "butwhat we did do – ah, this is my confession!"
"You borrowed a bit and didn't pay it back. Ah, naughty!" said Bones."Out with the corkscrew, Ali. What shall it be – a cream soda ornon-alcoholic ale?"
Mr. Fred looked long and earnestly at the young man.
"Mr. Tibbetts," he said, and suddenly grasped the hand of Bones, "Ihope we are going to be friends. I like you. That's my peculiarity – Ilike people or I dislike them. Now that I've told you that we boughttwo ships from your uncle for one hundred and forty thousand poundswhen we knew – yes, positively knew – they were worth at least twentythousand pounds more – now I've told you this, I feel happier."
"Worth twenty thousand pounds more?" said Bones thoughtfully.
Providence was working overtime for him, he thought.
"Of anybody's money," said Fred stoutly. "I don't care where you go,my dear chap. Ask Cole – he's the biggest shipping lawyer in thiscity – ask my brother, who, I suppose, is the greatest shippingauthority in the world, or – what's the use of asking 'em? – askyourself. If you're not Saul Tibbetts all over again, if you haven'tthe instinct and the eye and the brain of a shipowner – why, I'm aDutchman! That's what I am – a Dutchman!"
He picked up his hat and his lips were pressed tight – a gesture and agrimace which stood for grim conviction.
"What are they worth to-day?" asked Bones, after a pause.
"What are they worth to-day?" Mr. Fred frowned heavily at the ceiling."Now, what are they worth to-day? I forget how much I've spent on'em – they're in dock now."
Bones tightened his lips, too.
"They're in dock now?" he said. He scratched his nose. "Dear old Fred
Pole," he said, "you're a jolly old soul. By Jove that's not bad!
'Pole' an' 'soul' rhyme – did you notice it?"
Fred had noticed it.
"It's rum," said Bones, shaking his head, "it is rum how things getabout. How did you know, old fellow-citizen, that I was going in forshippin'?"
Mr. Fred Pole did not know that Bones was going in for shipping, but hesmiled.
"There are few things that happen in the City that I don't know," headmitted modestly.
"The Tibbetts Line," said Bones firmly, "will fly a house-flag ofpurple and green diagonally – that is, from corner to corner. Therewill be a yellow anchor in a blue wreath in one corner and a capital Tin a red wreath in the other."
"Original, distinctly original," said Fred in wondering admiration.
"Wherever did you get that idea?"
"I get ideas," confessed Bones, blushing, "some times in the night, sometimes in the day. The fleet" – Bones liked the sound of the wordand repeated it – "the fleet will consist of the Augustus, theSanders– a dear old friend of mine living at Hindhead – thePatricia– another dear old friend of mine living at Hindhead, too – infact, in the same house. To tell you the truth, dear old Fred Pole, she's married to the other ship. And there'll be the Hamilton,another precious old soul, a very, very, very, very dear friend of minewho's comin' home shortly – "
"Well, what shall we say, Mr. Tibbetts?" said Fred, who had an earlyluncheon appointment. "Would you care to buy the two boats at the sameprice we gave your uncle for them?"
Bones rang his bell.
"I'm a business man, dear old Fred," said he soberly. "There's no timelike the present, and I'll fix the matter —now!"
He said "now" with a ferociousness which was intended to emphasize hishard and inflexible business character.
Fred came into the private office of Pole & Pole after lunch that day, and there was in his face a great light and a peace which was almostbeautiful.
But never beamed the face of Fred so radiantly as the countenance ofthe waiting Joe. He lay back in his chair, his cigar pointing to theceiling.
"Well, Fred?" – there was an anthem in his voice.
"Very well, Joe." Fred hung up his unnecessary umbrella.
"I've sold the Fairies!"
Joe said it and Fred said it. They said it together. There was thesame lilt of triumph in each voice, and both smiles vanished at theidentical instant.
"You've sold the Fairies!" they said.
They might have been rehearsing this scene for months, so perfect wasthe chorus.
"Wait a bit, Joe," said Fred; "let's get the hang of this. Iunderstand that you left the matter to me."
"I did; but, Fred, I was so keen on the idea I had that I had to nip inbefore you. Of course, I didn't go to him as Pole & Pole – "
"To him? What him?" asked Fred, breathing hard.
"To What's-his-name – Bones."
Fred took his blue silk handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed hisface.
"Go on, Joe," he said sadly
"I got him just before he went out to lunch. I sent up the United
Merchant Shippers' card – it's our company, anyway. Not a word about
Pole & Pole."
"Oh, no, of course not!" said Fred.
"And, my boy," – this was evidently Joe's greatest achievement, for hedescribed the fact with gusto – "not a word about the names of theships. I just sold him two steamers, so and so tonnage, so and soclassification – "
"For how much?"
Fred was mildly curious. It was the curiosity which led a certainpolitical prisoner to feel the edge of the axe before it beheaded him.
"A hundred and twenty thousand!" cried Joe joyously. "He's starting afleet, he says. He's calling it the Tibbetts Line, and bought a coupleof ships only this morning."
Fred examined the ceiling carefully before he spoke.
"Joe," he said, "was it a firm deal? Did you put pen to paper?"
"You-bet-your-dear-sweet-life,"