For the Allinson Honor

"I understand your reasons. The concern has got into trouble, for which I'm to be held responsible, and you clear out because you find it impossible to curb my recklessness. You expect to save your credit in that way."

"Have it so, if you like," said Leonard coolly.

His answer convinced Andrew that Leonard did not know of the richness of the lode. Andrew thought he had honestly disbelieved in it, and Mappin, who had informed him of its discovery, which had not yet been widely mentioned in the Canadian papers, might not have made him understand its importance. Indeed, it was possible that Mappin meant to throw over his English confederate.

"I have another demand to make. I want your consent to a dissolution of your partnership in Allinson's."

Leonard started and his face grew hard; though it seemed impossible that Andrew, whom he had genuinely looked down on, should urge the matter.

"This is too much!" he exclaimed. "Have you lost your senses?"

"I think not. You have betrayed the trust my father had in you; you have started Allinson's on a downward course. That you have, with the exception of the Rain Bluff speculation, so far made money for the firm does not count, because you can't continue doing so. There's a code of business morality; they are not fools in the city, and your methods would be found out. Then the reputation we trade upon would be gone. But enough of this. Put your price on your position and I'll pay it if possible."

Leonard clenched his hands.

"No!" he answered. "I hold my place! You cannot get rid of me!"

"Is that your last word?"

"Yes! I've tried to be forbearing, but you push me too hard. It has come to an open fight, which may as well begin at the shareholders' meeting. I shall not resign from the Board."

"It was bound to come," said Andrew. "We know how we stand."

Leonard rose.

"Florence and I leave to-morrow! There is no train to-night."

"That must be as you wish," responded Andrew, as he went out.

Half an hour later Florence found him on the terrace. Her face was flushed and her eyes were angry.

"Andrew," she cried, "do you mean to persist in this madness? Shall I try to make peace with Leonard before it is too late?"

"I'm sorry it's too late already. I can't think he sent you."

"No; I came because I felt I must. Can't you see that you are bent on ruining yourself and bringing discredit on the firm?"

"I think not; but it's a point on which we can't agree. I can't blame you for taking Leonard's side."

"Oh," she cried, "try to be sensible! Think how Leonard has developed the business and earned the money that you have spent. Try to remember all you owe to him."

A queer smile crept into Andrew's eyes. He knew what he owed to Leonard, but Florence must not guess. She should keep her faith in her husband, if she could.

"At the worst, he would leave the firm with a very much larger capital than when he joined it, and there are, no doubt, other firms which would welcome him."

Florence turned upon him with a mocking laugh.

"But Leonard is not going to leave the firm! Tell me, for one thing, why you wish him to?"

It was far from Andrew's intention that she should ever learn.

"Well," he said slowly, "our views are so different on almost every point that it's impossible we should get on. I'm very sorry, Florence, but you can't mend the matter. The split was inevitable."

"And you venture to set your immature judgment against Leonard's?"

"I'm forced to. Don't say any more, Florence. I suppose the thing must trouble you. Forgive me, if you can."

"I'll try, when you have found out your folly," she said, and left him.

CHAPTER XXXI

ALLINSON'S MAKES GOOD

It was with a strange sense of detachment that Andrew attended the first meeting of the shareholders in the Rain Bluff mine. He had thought of the event with great anxiety, made numerous plans and abandoned them, and now he had come, in a sense, unprepared, determined to submit two general propositions and let the shareholders decide for themselves. Ignorant of the usual mode of procedure at such meetings, he had consulted nobody better informed, and realized that he might be ruled out of order or shouted down; but he was sensible of a coolness that somewhat surprised him.

The room hired for the occasion was large and handsome, with a floor of inlaid hardwood, frescoed walls and lofty roof. It had something of the look of a chapel. At one end a group of well-groomed frock-coated directors were seated at a fine oak table, with the Company's secretary behind an array of books and papers. All that the eye rested on suggested stable prosperity, for Leonard knew the effect that imposing surroundings had on the small provincial investor. It would be difficult for inexperienced and unorganized malcontents to disregard the air of severe formality which he meant to cast over the proceedings.

Andrew missed nothing as he entered. To face a crisis had a steadying effect on him, and his manner was very tranquil as he walked up the long room.

Carefully scanning the assembled shareholders, he surmised from their dress and appearance that a number of them were people of small means from country towns. There were a few women, who looked nervous, as if they felt themselves out of place. He was surprised to see Gertrude and Mrs. Fenwood; and then as his glance roved farther he caught sight of Wannop, who gave him an encouraging grin. Robert Allinson was nearby, looking unusually grave; but Murray caught Andrew's eye and smiled. On the whole, he was glad that he had made no attempt to win over his relatives since his return: it was better that they should judge and vote like the rest of the shareholders. Then as he took his place he looked at his fellow-directors, whom he had not seen since his futile interviews. They wore an air of staid formality, and he suspected that before the meeting was finished they would regard him as a traitor to his class; but that did not matter. He had given them their opportunity and they would not seize it. Leonard, dressed with fastidious taste, looked, as usual, suave and well-bred, but the quick glance he gave Andrew seemed to hint at anxiety.

He made a short speech, calculated to reassure, but containing very little definite information. His audience listened in an apathetic manner, and it struck Andrew that a curious, matter-of-fact dullness characterized the proceedings. Leonard stated that the business of the meeting was to adopt the report and elect new members of the Board in place of those who retired, though they were, he added, eligible for re-election. Then there was a discordant note, for a short man in badly cut clothes, with spectacles and upstanding red hair, rose in the body of the hall.

"I take it that our chairman has made an error," he said. "Our business is to consider the report; not necessarily to adopt it."

"That is correct," said Leonard, smiling. "We invite your best consideration. I will now ask the secretary to read the document."

The secretary did so in a monotonous voice, as if it were a matter which must be got through with out of respect to custom, and Andrew felt that it would be a bold shareholder who ventured to disturb the tranquillity of the meeting. Moreover, he recognized the cleverness of the report. It said a good deal that was not to the point and avoided every loophole for adverse criticism. There was only one weak spot – no dividend was declared, though it was hinted that a satisfactory profit might be anticipated when the Company's property had been further developed.

Somebody proposed that it be adopted, a seconder appeared; and then, while Andrew felt that his time to speak had come, the short man with the red hair got up again.

"I move as an amendment that the report be held over until we are supplied with more details," he said. "What I want to know is – why there is no dividend, and when we may expect one?"

One or two of the directors looked supercilious, the others amused, and Leonard smiled indulgently. He was used to dealing with objectors.

"The question," he explained, "is complicated, but I think we have answered it already. I may add that it is unreasonable to expect a dividend on the first year's operations. Preliminary expenses are large, and a mine is not like a factory. The ground must, so to speak, be cleared before you can get to work. Headings must be driven and timbered, pumps and machines of various kinds have to be put up."

"Were you ever in a mine?" the red-haired man interrupted amid some laughter.

"I hardly think that is to the point," Leonard answered lightly. "Though I must admit that I have not been down a shaft, I have a knowledge of the commercial side of the subject, which is all that concerns me."

"So I thought!" exclaimed the other. "You can't know much about your work unless you have put up pitprops and used the pick. Now the chairman of a mining company ought – "

He was interrupted by cries of "Sit down!" and some ironical encouragement, and Leonard frowned. It might be dangerous to allow the meeting to get out of hand, and this troublesome fellow was giving Andrew, of whom he was half afraid, his opportunity.

"May I inquire whether the gentleman is a practical miner himself?" one of the directors interposed.

"I was, when I was young. Now I keep a shop and deal with pitmen. But I came here expecting to be told about a dividend. I put three hundred pounds into the Company, because lawyer Jesmond said one could rely on anything that was started by Allinson's. The money wasn't easily saved, but there was no opening in my business – what with the co-operatives cutting into a small man's trade – "