“Don’t know, I’m sure, ma’am. I’ll swear that he does what is right and proper.”
“That is what I usually pay–ten shillings in the hundred pounds. If you see him before I do just ask him to get me five thousand in New Zealands. It is at four just now, and I fancy it may rise.”
“Five thousand!” exclaimed the Admiral, reckoning it in his own mind. “Lemme see! That’s twenty-five pounds commission. A nice day’s work, upon my word. It is a very handsome order, ma’am.”
“Well, I must pay some one, and why not him?”
“I’ll tell him, and I’m sure he’ll lose no time.”
“Oh, there is no great hurry. By the way, I understand from what you said just now that he has a partner.”
“Yes, my boy is the junior partner. Pearson is the senior. I was introduced to him years ago, and he offered Harold the opening. Of course we had a pretty stiff premium to pay.”
Mrs. Westmacott had stopped, and was standing very stiffly with her Red Indian face even grimmer than usual.
“Pearson?” said she. “Jeremiah Pearson?”
“The same.”
“Then it’s all off,” she cried. “You need not carry out that investment.”
“Very well, ma’am.”
They walked on together side by side, she brooding over some thought of her own, and he a little crossed and disappointed at her caprice and the lost commission for Harold.
“I tell you what, Admiral,” she exclaimed suddenly, “if I were you I should get your boy out of this partnership.”
“But why, madam?”
“Because he is tied to one of the deepest, slyest foxes in the whole city of London.”
“Jeremiah Pearson, ma’am? What can you know of him? He bears a good name.”
“No one in this world knows Jeremiah Pearson as I know him, Admiral. I warn you because I have a friendly feeling both for you and for your son. The man is a rogue and you had best avoid him.”
“But these are only words, ma’am. Do you tell me that you know him better than the brokers and jobbers in the City?”
“Man,” cried Mrs. Westmacott, “will you allow that I know him when I tell you that my maiden name was Ada Pearson, and that Jeremiah is my only brother?”
The Admiral whistled. “Whew! ” cried he. “Now that I think of it, there is a likeness.”
“He is a man of iron, Admiral–a man with out a heart. I should shock you if I were to tell you what I have endured from my brother. My father’s wealth was divided equally between us. His own share he ran through in five years, and he has tried since then by every trick of a cunning, low-minded man, by base cajolery, by legal quibbles, by brutal intimidation, to juggle me out of my share as well. There is no villainy of which the man is not capable. Oh, I know my brother Jeremiah. I know him and I am prepared for him.”
“This is all new to me, ma’am. ‘Pon my word, I hardly know what to say to it. I thank you for having spoken so plainly. From what you say, this is a poor sort of consort for a man to sail with. Perhaps Harold would do well to cut himself adrift.”
“Without losing a day.”
“Well, we shall talk it over. You may be sure of that. But here we are at the station, so I will just see you into your carriage and then home to see what my wife says to the matter.”
As he trudged homewards, thoughtful and perplexed, he was surprised to hear a shout behind him, and to see Harold running down the road after him.
“Why, dad,” he cried, “I have just come from town, and the first thing I saw was your back as you marched away. But you are such a quick walker that I had to run to catch you.”
The Admiral’s smile of pleasure had broken his stern face into a thousand wrinkles. “You are early to-day,” said he.
“Yes, I wanted to consult you.”
“Nothing wrong?”
“Oh no, only an inconvenience.”
“What is it, then?”
“How much have we in our private account?”