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"No, but I'll authorise my bankers to give you a full statement of my receipts for the last five years longer, if you like." The strategic stroke of placing the ten gentlemen round the Board table had made it impossible for them to consult freely without being overheard, but the low-voiced transference of thought travelling round was summed up at last by Mr. Brownbee. "We think, Mr.
Old Heythorp raised a saluting hand to the level of his chest and moving to an arm-chair, lowered himself into it. "Well, gentlemen?" One of the eight gentlemen got up again. "Mr. Heythorp, we've appointed Mr. Brownbee to voice our views. Mr. Brownbee!" And down he sat. Mr.
"We hope that you will by then have seen your way to something more substantial, with a view to avoiding what we should all regret, but which I fear will otherwise become inevitable." Old Heythorp nodded. The eight gentlemen took their hats, and went out one by one, Mr. Brownbee courteously bringing up the rear. The old man, who could not get up without assistance, stayed musing in his chair.
From the depths of old Heythorp a preliminary rumble came travelling, reached the surface, and materialised "Don't know about you feel a boy, myself." The eight gentlemen looked at him. Was he going to try and put them off again? Mr. Brownbee said with unruffled calm: "I'm sure we're very glad to hear it. But to come to the point. We have felt, Mr.
And the beggar had. That settlement was drawn and only awaited signature. The Board to-day had decided on the purchase; and all that remained was to get it ratified at the general meeting. Let him but get that over, and this provision for his grandchildren made, and he would snap his fingers at Brownbee and his crew-the canting humbugs! "Hope you have many years of this life before you!"
'You ugly dog, he was thinking, 'you think you've got something up your sleeve. Well, do your worst! The "ugly dog" rose abruptly and joined the others. And old Heythorp closed his eyes, sitting perfectly still, with his cigar, which had gone out, sticking up between his teeth. Mr. Brownbee turning to voice the decision come to, cleared his throat. "Mr.
Brownbee, with a little bow, clasped his hat to his breast and moved towards the door. The nine gentlemen followed. Mr. Ventnor, bringing up the rear, turned and looked back. But the old man's eyes were already closed again. The moment his creditors were gone, old Heythorp sounded the hand-bell. "Help me up, Mr. Farney. That Ventnor what's his holding?" "Quite small. Only ten shares, I think."
Mistake to kill the goose that lays the golden eggs. I'll make it twelve hundred. If you force me to resign my directorships by bankruptcy, you won't get a rap, you know." Mr. Brownbee cleared his throat: "We think, Mr. Heythorp, you should make it at least fifteen hundred. In that case we might perhaps consider " Old Heythorp shook his head.
Brownbee went over and conferred with Mr. Ventnor, then clearing his throat, he said: "Well, sir, we have considered your proposal; we agree to accept it for the moment. We will come again, as you suggest, in a month's time.
Brownbee rose a stoutish man some seventy years of age, with little grey side whiskers, and one of those utterly steady faces only to be seen in England, faces which convey the sense of business from father to son for generations; faces which make wars, and passion, and free thought seem equally incredible; faces which inspire confidence, and awaken in one a desire to get up and leave the room.
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