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Updated: June 12, 2025
Modern routine work without diversion was a treadmill, prisonlike existence. Delbridge was the happy medium. The jovial speculator had never heard of such a fine-spun thing as a conscience. What if Irene and Buckton were having their fun; could he not also enjoy himself?
Besides, I'll want to hide myself from the public eye. Yes, he will protect my interest, and I shall need all the funds I can rake together. Great God! how did this ever come about? Only the other day I had some hope, but now not a shred is left. Delbridge was my financial rival. Neck and neck we ran together, the talk of the town; but now yes, he can wipe his feet on me.
"The same price I gave Saunders," Delbridge answered. "You couldn't expect to make a better deal than that long-headed chap. If you really want to do this thing you'd better act at once. I have another plan on hand." "You make it as an offer?" Mostyn asked. "Yes." "Then the stock is yours," Mostyn answered. I may check it out to-day. I am thinking of leaving town."
"You see, it is not only here that he talks. He goes to the other banks and to the offices of the brokers and chatters like a child about our confidential affairs. I am afraid he will do us absolute financial injury. He is insanely suspicious, and there is no telling what report he may set afloat." "I think most persons understand his condition," Saunders returned. "Delbridge does, I know.
He would go out and find Saunders, he decided, and get the detail pertaining to the sale of stock off his mind. Outside he looked up the street, seeing Saunders and Delbridge standing on the corner in conversation. "Delbridge is crazy to make the deal," he said, bitterly. "That is what he is talking about now. Well, he may have it. I am down and out. I am in no shape to attend to business.
In fact, the unsullied name of a man like Delbridge might rescue the institution from the actual ruin which was apt to follow such a scandal and the accompanying report of old Mitchell's financial estrangement from his son-in-law.
Minutes of meetings of the Company reveal how earnest was the struggle: December 1, 1619. The last great general court being read, Mr. Treasurer acquainted them that Mr. John Delbridge, purposing to settle a particular colony in Virginia, desired of the Company that for defraying some part of his charge he might be admitted to fish at Cape Cod.
You know our father died from softening of the brain, which was brought on by financial worry. You are killing yourself, and for no reason in the world. Look at Alan Delbridge. He is the ideal man of affairs. Nothing disturbs him." "It is always Delbridge, Delbridge!" Mostyn said, testily. "Even you can't keep from hurling him in my teeth. He is as cold-blooded as a fish.
He goes to see Delbridge often. I see your predicament and sympathize with you. The old man has lost all his discretion, and you really cannot afford to confer with him." "The trouble is, he has his legal rights," Mostyn said, tentatively, "and the slightest thing may turn him against me. There are shyster lawyers here who would not hesitate to advise him wrongly.
Reaching the bank, he was about to enter when he met, coming out, a dark, straight-haired, beardless young man who promptly grasped his hand. It was Alan Delbridge. "Hello!" Delbridge said, with a laugh. "Glad to see you back. You look better. The wild woods have put new life in you. I knew you'd come as soon as the Mitchells got home." "It wasn't that," Mostyn said, lamely.
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