“You both know Fratten—Sir Garth Fratten—head of Fratten’s Bank—one of the most solid and respected men in the City? You’ll hardly believe me, but I think I have practically persuaded him to join our Board! What do you think of that, eh?” Sir Hunter paused impressively and looked at his fellow-directors to see what effect this tremendous piece of news would have on them. The effect was certainly visible, but it was hardly of the nature that the General had expected. Wraile looked at him with raised eyebrows—a respectful, but hardly encouraging expression. Lessingham, on the other hand, wore a look of intense anger. His face retained its even white colour but his eyebrows were knit in a heavy frown and his lower lip protruded as he glared at Sir Hunter. “What’s this?” he exclaimed. “Join our Board? Fratten join our Board? What right have you to ask him without our consent? It’s a gross liberty, Lorne—a gross liberty!” Sir Hunter was palpably taken aback. He had expected enthusiasm; he received abuse. Not since, as a Brigadier, he had been sent for by the Corps Commander and, instead of receiving the praise he had expected for a “successful” raid, had been frigidly rebuked for squandering lives, had he been so thrown off his balance. He grew red in the face, his moustache bristled, and a line of small bubbles appeared on his lips. “Wh . . . what’s that?” he stammered. “A liberty! What the hell d’you mean, sir? It’s the best stroke of business I’ve ever done!” “I can quite believe that,” said Lessingham acidly. “But, damn it, man, Fratten’s name on our Board will draw money like a magnet! Think of the security it offers. Fratten! Fratten’s Bank practically guaranteeing us!” “Fratten’s Bank doing nothing of the kind,” exclaimed Lessingham angrily. “There’s a Board of directors there just as there is here; it’s not a one-man show, any more than this is!” Lorne was staggered. He looked to Wraile for support, but Wraile’s face was cold; he looked at Mr. Blagge, but the manager’s eyes were bent upon the papers before him. “Well I’m b——,” said the General. “Of all the ungrateful devils! Look here, you chaps, can’t you understand what it’d mean? Every investor looking through a list of Finance Companies will see Fratten’s name on our Board—the biggest name on the whole list—just what we want! Security! Ballast! We’ve got brains, we want ballast! What?” Lessingham’s reply was quiet this time, but cold, decided, unsympathetic as a surgeon’s knife.