New York (N.Y.) -- Fiction; Swindlers and swindling -- Fiction
Two days later Wallingford called a conclave of the stock-holders to
meet one Hamilton G. Dorcas, of Boston, who had come to consider
taking over the property of the Doctor Quagg Peerless Sciatacata
Company. Quite hopefully Doctor Lazzier, young Corbin, young Paley and
the others attended that meeting for the disposal of the concern which
had already eaten up one hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars in
good cash; but when they began talking with Mr. Dorcas they were not
quite so extravagantly hopeful. Mr. H. G. Dorcas was a tall, thin,
black-haired, black-eyed and black-mustached young man in ministerial
clothing, who looked astonishingly like Horace G. Daw, if any one of
them had previously known that young gentleman.
"I have been through your factory," said Mr. Dorcas in a businesslike
manner, "and all I find here of any value to me is your second-hand
bottling machinery and vats and your second-hand office furniture. For
those I am prepared to pay you a reasonable second-hand price; say,
about fifteen thousand dollars."
It was young Corbin who put up the loudest protest.
"Why, man, such an offer is preposterous! Besides the twenty-five
thousand invested in the machinery, fixtures and other expenses, we
have spent exactly a hundred thousand dollars in advertising."
Mr. Dorcas shrugged his shoulders.
"What good will that do me?" he retorted. "It's wasted."
Deep silence followed. The stock-holders knew that a hundred thousand
had actually been paid out for advertising which, of course, was now
of no value whatever. Only Wallingford knew that, the contract not
being completed, part of it could be rebated, though only a small
part, but he was not saying anything. Temptation had caught up with
Wallingford, had wrestled with him and overthrown him!
"Yes," admitted young Paley with a long, long sigh, "all that
advertising money is wasted."
Young Corbin was figuring.
"Mr. Dorcas," said he, "if you will increase your offer by two
thousand dollars I am inclined to accept it and get out of this muddle
once and for all."
Mr. Dorcas himself figured very carefully.
"It is stretching a point with you," said he, "but I'll give it to
you. Understand, though, that is the last cent."
"I am not in favor of it," declared Wallingford, thereby putting
himself upon the proper side for future reference. "It leaves us with
a net cash loss of one hundred and eight thousand dollars. I'm in
favor of rigging up some other patent medicine and going right ahead
with the business. A slight assessment on our stock, or an agreement
to purchase _pro rata_, among ourselves, a small amount of the
treasury stock in order to raise about twenty-five thousand dollars
more, will put us in shape to go ahead."
If he intended to encourage them he had gone the wrong way about it.
They recoiled as one man from that thought. Young Corbin jumped to his
feet.
"You may count me out," he declared.
"Doctor Lazzier," pleaded Wallingford, "you are in favor of this
course?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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