"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 he
described the fact with gusto--"not a word about the names of the
ships. I just sold him two steamers, so and so tonnage, so and so
classification----"
"For how much?"
Fred was mildly curious. It was the curiosity which led a certain
political prisoner to feel the edge of the axe before it beheaded him.
"A hundred and twenty thousand!" cried Joe joyously. "He's starting a
fleet, he says. He's calling it the Tibbetts Line, and bought a couple
of 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," said Joe, scornful at the suggestion
that he had omitted such an indispensable part of the negotiation.
"So did I, Joe," said Fred. "Those two ships he bought were the two
Fairies."
There was a dead silence.
"Well," said Joe uneasily, after a while, "we can get a couple of
ships----"
"Where, Joe? You admitted yesterday there weren't two boats in the
world on the market."
Another long silence.
"I did it for the best, Fred."
Fred nodded "Something must be done. We can't sell a man what we haven't got.
Joe, couldn't you go and play golf this afternoon whilst I wangle this
matter out?"
Joe nodded and rose solemnly. He took down his umbrella from the peg
and his shiny silk hat from another peg, and tiptoed from the room.
From three o'clock to four Mr. Fred Pole sat immersed in thought, and
at last, with a big, heavy sigh, he unlocked his safe, took out his
cheque-book and pocketed it.
Bones was on the point of departure, after a most satisfactory day's
work, when Fred Pole was announced.
Bones greeted him like unto a brother--caught him by the hand at the
very entrance and, still holding him thus, conducted him to one of his
beautiful chairs.
"By Jove, dear old Fred," he babbled, "it's good of you, old
fellow--really good of you! Business, my jolly old shipowner, waits
for no man. Ali, my cheque-book!"
"A moment--just a moment, dear Mr. Bones," begged Fred. "You don't
mind my calling you by the name which is already famous in the City?"
Bones looked dubious.
"Personally, I prefer Tibbetts," said Fred.
"Personally, dear old Fred, so do I," admitted Bones.
"I've come on a curious errand," said Fred in such hollow tones that
Bones started. "The fact is, old man, I'm----"
He hung his head, and Bones laid a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.