"How many?" wailed de Vinne.
"A hundred and fifty thousand," said Mr. Fred, and the two men stared
at one another.
De Vinne licked his dry lips.
"It comes to this," he said. "Between us we've sold him three hundred
and thirty thousand shares. There are only two hundred and fifty
thousand shares issued, so we've got to deliver eighty thousand shares
that are non-existent or be posted as defaulters."
Another long pause, and then both men said simultaneously, as though
the thought had struck them for the first time: "Why, the fellow's a rogue!"
The next morning they called upon Bones, and they were with him for
half an hour; and when they went, they left behind them, not only the
cheques that Bones had given them, but another cheque for a most
substantial amount as consideration.
That night Bones gave a wonderful dinner-party at the most expensive
hotel in London. Sanders was there, and Patricia Sanders, and
Hamilton, and a certain Vera, whom the bold Bones called by her
Christian name, but the prettiest of the girls was she who sat on his
right and listened to the delivery of Bones's great speech in fear and
trembling.
"The toast of the evening, dear old friends," said Bones, "is Cupidity
and Cupid. Coupled with the names of the Honourable de Vinne and my
young and lovely typewriter--my friend and companion in storm and
stress, the only jolly old lady, if I may be allowed to say so, that
has stirred my young heart"--he caught Patricia Sanders's accusing eye,
coughed, and added--"in Europe!"