Bones in London

Pole & Pole."

"Oh, no, of course not!" said Fred.

"And, my boy," – this was evidently Joe's greatest achievement, for hedescribed the fact with gusto – "not a word about the names of theships. I just sold him two steamers, so and so tonnage, so and soclassification – "

"For how much?"

Fred was mildly curious. It was the curiosity which led a certainpolitical prisoner to feel the edge of the axe before it beheaded him.

"A hundred and twenty thousand!" cried Joe joyously. "He's starting afleet, he says. He's calling it the Tibbetts Line, and bought a coupleof ships only this morning."

Fred examined the ceiling carefully before he spoke.

"Joe," he said, "was it a firm deal? Did you put pen to paper?"

"You-bet-your-dear-sweet-life," said Joe, scornful at the suggestionthat he had omitted such an indispensable part of the negotiation.

"So did I, Joe," said Fred. "Those two ships he bought were the twoFairies."

There was a dead silence.

"Well," said Joe uneasily, after a while, "we can get a couple ofships – "

"Where, Joe? You admitted yesterday there weren't two boats in theworld on the market."

Another long silence.

"I did it for the best, Fred."

Fred nodded

"Something must be done. We can't sell a man what we haven't got.Joe, couldn't you go and play golf this afternoon whilst I wangle thismatter out?"

Joe nodded and rose solemnly. He took down his umbrella from the pegand his shiny silk hat from another peg, and tiptoed from the room.

From three o'clock to four Mr. Fred Pole sat immersed in thought, andat last, with a big, heavy sigh, he unlocked his safe, took out hischeque-book and pocketed it.

Bones was on the point of departure, after a most satisfactory day'swork, when Fred Pole was announced.

Bones greeted him like unto a brother – caught him by the hand at thevery entrance and, still holding him thus, conducted him to one of hisbeautiful chairs.

"By Jove, dear old Fred," he babbled, "it's good of you, oldfellow – really good of you! Business, my jolly old shipowner, waitsfor no man. Ali, my cheque-book!"

"A moment – just a moment, dear Mr. Bones," begged Fred. "You don'tmind my calling you by the name which is already famous in the City?"

Bones looked dubious.

"Personally, I prefer Tibbetts," said Fred.

"Personally, dear old Fred, so do I," admitted Bones.

"I've come on a curious errand," said Fred in such hollow tones that

Bones started. "The fact is, old man, I'm – "

He hung his head, and Bones laid a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.

"Anybody is liable to get that way, my jolly old roysterer," he said."Speakin' for myself, drink has no effect upon me – due to my jolly oldnerves of iron an' all that sort of thing."

"I'm ashamed of myself," said Fred.

"Nothing to be ashamed of, my poor old toper," said Bones honestly inerror. "Why, I remember once – "

"As a business man, Mr. Tibbetts," said Fred bravely, "can you forgivesentiment?"

"Sentiment! Why, you silly old josser, I'm all sentiment, dear oldthing! Why, I simply cry myself to sleep over dear old CharlesWhat's-his-name's books!"

"It's sentiment," said Fred brokenly. "I just can't – I simply can'tpart with those two ships I sold you."

"Hey?" said Bones.

"They were your uncle's, but they have an association for me and mybrother which it would be – er – profane to mention. Mr. Tibbetts, letus cry off our bargain."

Bones sniffed and rubbed his nose.

"Business, dear old Fred," he said gently. "Bear up an' play the man,as dear old Francis Drake said when they stopped him playin' cricket.Business, old friend. I'd like to oblige you, but – "

He shook his head rapidly

Mr. Fred slowly produced his cheque-book and laid it on the desk withthe sigh of one who was about to indite his last wishes.

"You shall not be the loser," he said, with a catch in his voice, forhe was genuinely grieved. "I must pay for my weakness. What is fivehundred pounds?"

"What is a thousand, if it comes to that, Freddy?" said Bones."Gracious goodness, I shall be awfully disappointed if you back out – Ishall be so vexed, really."

"Seven hundred and fifty?" asked Fred, with pleading in his eye.

"Make it a thousand, dear old Fred," said Bones; "I can't add upfifties."

So "in consideration" (as Fred wrote rapidly and Bones signed morerapidly) "of the sum of one thousand pounds (say £1,000), the contractas between &c., &c.," was cancelled, and Fred became again thepractical man of affairs.

"Dear old Fred," said Bones, folding the cheque and sticking it in hispocket, "I'm goin' to own up – frankness is a vice with me – that I don'tunderstand much about the shippin' business. But tell me, my jolly oldmerchant, why do fellers sell you ships in the mornin' an' buy 'em backin the afternoon?"

"Business, Mr. Tibbetts," said Fred, smiling, "just big business."

Bones sucked an inky finger.

"Dinky business for me, dear old thing," he said. "I've got a thousandfrom you an' a thousand from the other Johnny who sold me two ships.Bless my life an' soul – "