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Read Ebook: Bones in London by Wallace Edgar
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Ebook has 2010 lines and 65161 words, and 41 pages
"You see, Mr. Tibbetts," Fred went on, with a sad smile, "your lamented uncle, before he went out of business, sold us his ships. He died a month later."
He sighed and Bones sighed.
"Your uncle was a great man, Mr. Tibbetts," he said, "one of the greatest business men in this little city. What a man!"
"Ah!" said Bones, shaking his head mournfully.
He had never met his uncle and had seldom heard of him. Saul Tibbetts was reputedly a miser, and his language was of such violence that the infant Augustus was invariably hurried to the nursery on such rare occasions as old Saul paid a family visit. His inheritance had come to Bones as in a dream, from the unreality of which he had not yet awakened.
"I must confess, Mr. Tibbetts," said Fred, "that I have often had qualms of conscience about your uncle, and I have been on the point of coming round to see you several times. This morning I said to my brother, 'Joe,' I said, 'I'm going round to see Tibbetts.' Forgive the familiarity, but we talk of firms like the Rothschilds and the Morgans without any formality."
"Naturally, naturally, naturally," murmured Bones gruffly.
"I said: 'I'll go and see Tibbetts and get it off my chest. If he wants those ships back at the price we paid for them, or even less, he shall have them.' 'Fred,' he said, 'you're too sensitive for business.' 'Joe,' I said, 'my conscience works even in business hours.'"
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 you want to pay it back. Fred"--Bones rose and extended his knuckly hand--"you're a jolly old sportsman, and you can put it there!"
"Not a word. We'll have a bottle on this. What will you have--ginger-beer or cider?"
Mr. Fred suppressed a shudder with difficulty.
"No, no, naturally," said Bones, with a facial contortion which passed for a wink. "Certainly not. We business men never rob anybody. Ali, bring the drinks!"
"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 or non-alcoholic ale?"
Mr. Fred looked long and earnestly at the young man.
"Mr. Tibbetts," he said, and suddenly grasped the hand of Bones, "I hope we are going to be friends. I like you. That's my peculiarity--I like people or I dislike them. Now that I've told you that we bought two ships from your uncle for one hundred and forty thousand pounds when we knew--yes, positively knew--they were worth at least twenty thousand 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 this city--ask my brother, who, I suppose, is the greatest shipping authority in the world, or--what's the use of asking 'em?--ask yourself. If you're not Saul Tibbetts all over again, if you haven't the instinct and the eye and the brain of a shipowner--why, I'm a Dutchman! That's what I am--a Dutchman!"
He picked up his hat and his lips were pressed tight--a gesture and a grimace 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."
Fred had noticed it.
"It's rum," said Bones, shaking his head, "it is rum how things get about. How did you know, old fellow-citizen, that I was going in for shippin'?"
Mr. Fred Pole did not know that Bones was going in for shipping, but he smiled.
"The Tibbetts Line," said Bones firmly, "will fly a house-flag of purple and green diagonally--that is, from corner to corner. There will be a yellow anchor in a blue wreath in one corner and a capital T in a red wreath in the other."
"Original, distinctly original," said Fred in wondering admiration. "Wherever did you get that idea?"
"Well, what shall we say, Mr. Tibbetts?" said Fred, who had an early luncheon appointment. "Would you care to buy the two boats at the same price we gave your uncle for them?"
Bones rang his bell.
He said "now" with a ferociousness which was intended to emphasize his hard 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 almost beautiful.
But never beamed the face of Fred so radiantly as the countenance of the waiting Joe. He lay back in his chair, his cigar pointing to the ceiling.
"Well, Fred?"--there was an anthem in his voice.
"Very well, Joe." Fred hung up his unnecessary umbrella.
Joe said it and Fred said it. They said it together. There was the same lilt of triumph in each voice, and both smiles vanished at the identical instant.
They might have been rehearsing this scene for months, so perfect was the chorus.
"Wait a bit, Joe," said Fred; "let's get the hang of this. I understand that you left the matter to me."
"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 his face.
"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.
"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.
There was a dead silence.
"Where, Joe? You admitted yesterday there weren't two boats in the world on the market."
Another long silence.
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