Git the stock. Lemme handle it. Gimme twenty per
cent."
"In stock?"
"Calc'late so."
"Baines," said Linderman, "I'll go you. Crane and Keith are due for a
lesson."
"Ready now?"
"Yes."
"G'-by, Mr. Linderman. Have money when I want it. G'-by."
Scattergood had a list of stockholders in the pulp company and knew they
were worried. He spent two days in interviewing a dozen of them, and
found little difficulty optioning their stock at a pleasant figure. They
imagined he must be crazy, and he did nothing to destroy the belief.
Then he called at the offices of Crane & Keith.
"Want to see the boss man," he said.
"What for?"
"Hear you got stock for sale. Pulp company. Figger to buy."
Here was a lamb ready for the slaughter. Mr. McCann, who received him,
could see the delight of his employers, and his own profit, if he
should succeed in taking this fat backwoodsman into camp.
"You want to buy stock in the pulp company, I understand?"
"Yes."
"How much?"
"How much you got?"
"Guess we can sell you all you want."
"Money-makin' proposition, hain't it?"
"Of course."
"But you're willin' to sell? Kind of funny, hain't it?"
"Oh no.
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