"Come, come, father, let's be reasonable! Sinker says that the Canal will
be a clear case of twenty per cent, per annum for ten years at least, and
that we could afford to lose a cent or two upon the Bilbo iron to make it
up, over and over again."
Mr. Abel Newt threw his leg over the arm of the chair and looked at his
boot. Mr. Boniface Newt threw his head around suddenly and fiercely.
"And what's Sinker's commission? How much money do you suppose he has to
put in? How much stock will he take?"
"He has sold out in the Mallow Mines to put in," said Abel, a little
doggedly.
"Are you sure?"
"He says so," returned Abel, shortly.
"Don't believe a word of it!" said his father, tartly, turning back again
to his desk.
Abel put both hands in his pockets, and both feet upon the ground, side
by side, and rocked them upon the heels backward and forward, looking all
the time at his father. His face grew cloudy--more cloudy every moment.
At length he said,
"I think we'd better do it."
His father did not speak or move. He seemed to have heard nothing, and
to be only inwardly cursing the state of things revealed by the books and
papers before him.
Abel looked at him for a moment, and then, raising his voice, continued:
"As one of the firm, I propose that we sell out the Bilbo and buy into
the Canal."
Not a look or movement from his father.
Abel jumped up--his eyes black, his face red. He took his hat and went to
the door, saying,
"I shall go and conclude the arrangement!"
As he reached the door his father raised his eyes and looked at him. The
eyes were full of contempt and anger, and a sneering sound came from his
lips.
"You'll do no such thing."
The young man glanced sideways at his parent.
"Who will prevent me?"
"I!" roared the elder.
"I believe I am one of the firm," said Abel, coldly.
"You'd better try it!" said the old man, disregarding Abel's remark.
Abel was conscious that his father had this game, at least, in his hands.
The word of the young man would hardly avail against a simultaneous
veto from the parent. No transaction would stand a moment under such
circumstances. The young man slowly turned from the door, and fixing his
eyes upon his father, advanced toward him with a kind of imperious
insolence.
"I should like to understand my position in this house," said he, with
forced calmness.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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