CHAPTER V

WOLF'S OFFER

Jefferson sat in the shade of the bougainvillea and pondered some

letters. Austin lounged in a basket-chair opposite and read the

_Diario_. They had combined their business as far as possible, but

Pancho Brown would not agree to a formal amalgamation. All was quiet.

One heard the fountain splash and Betty's typewriter rattle. Sometimes a

voice came from the room where Jefferson's Spanish clerks were occupied,

but this was all.

Presently Austin put down the newspaper.

"The tomato crop was light and the vines are doing badly. It's ominous

that the Palma import houses are cutting down their orders."

"Martinez allowed he wanted to get out of the deal in chemical

fertilisers. Trade is looking sick," Jefferson agreed.

"When I joined Pancho Brown I used to study the accounts and

congratulate myself when I saw our credits going up," Austin remarked

with a smile. "To feel I could write a cheque for a good sum was

something very new. Now I'm bothered because we have money at the bank.

I don't see how it's going to be usefully employed."

"You want to keep money moving. Well, I met Wolf a day or two since, and

he hinted he knew about a deal. I wasn't keen, but he said he might come

around and see us. I rather expect him."

"You don't trust the fellow?"

"Sure thing! Reckon it's instinctive. I like straightforward folks.

Wolf's a mystery man."

Austin looked up and laughed. "He's coming."

Wolf crossed the flags, and when he stopped by the bougainvillea his

face was red. He was fat and his thin, black alpaca jacket looked very

tight.

"Sun's fierce. Will you take a drink?" said Jefferson, and clapping his

hands for a servant, ordered _Cerveza_.

As a rule, in hot countries, cautious white men do not drink much beer,

but Wolf drained his glass of pale yellow liquor with obvious

satisfaction.

"The Glasgow stuff is good," he said. "In fact, for British lager, it's

very nearly right."

"Where d'you reckon to get it exactly right? Chicago or Munich?"

Jefferson inquired.

Wolf laughed. "It's good at both cities. At Munich there's a _garten_.

But I'm not going to bore you by talking about lager."

Betty's typewriter stopped. The light in the _patio_ was strong and to

sit in her dark office and study the group outside was like watching a

play on an illuminated stage. The curtains at the arch narrowed her

view, and the figures of the actors, sharply distinct, occupied the

opening. Betty's sense of the dramatic was keen, and she had remarked

that Wolf sat down where a beam shone over his shoulder. Then when

Jefferson talked about Chicago and Munich she thought he tried to study

Wolf's face, but could not. Wolf had hesitated for a moment before he

admitted that he knew the cities. Betty rested her face in her hand and

resolved to watch. For one thing, Wolf was Kit's employer.

"Trade is slack," Wolf resumed. "The Spanish merchants see they can't

ship much produce and are cutting their orders. I don't know if you feel

the slump, but my African speculation promises well. The trouble is, I

can't finance it properly, and if you would like to come in----"

"Pancho Brown is old-fashioned and not keen about new undertakings,"

Austin replied cautiously. "Do you expect to get larger lots of sheep?"

"It's possible, but I thought about buying camels. I reckon I can get

them for a low price, paid in trade goods, and I expect you know what

they are worth just now."

Austin pondered. The single-humped camel is used in the Canaries,

particularly in the dry Eastern islands, and the animals cost much. All

the same, Austin knew his partner doubted.

"Where do your customers get the camels?" Jefferson asked.

"I frankly don't know. The Berbers are not the people to give you their

confidence. It's possible they steal the camels. Anyhow, they state they

can get them."

"Well, if you are short of money, we might perhaps supply the goods you

want and take the camels at a price agreed."

"I can get credit for the trade-goods and sell the camels to Spanish

buyers as soon as they arrive. In fact, I see no particular advantage in

your plan."

"Then, what is your proposition?"

"Something like this: I want you to join me in the speculation and take

your share of the profit and the risk. There is some risk. The business

is going to be bigger than I thought, and my capital is not large. I

want partners who will help me seize all the chances that come along and

will back me if I get up against an obstacle."

Austin lighted a cigarette and Betty imagined he weighed the plan, but

Jefferson did not. Wolf drank some beer and when he put down his glass

Betty thought the glance he gave the others was keen. He looked cunning,

and she thought if she were Austin she would let his offer go. After a

few moments Jefferson looked up.

"Harry and I will talk about it and send you a note. Will you take

another drink?"

Wolf drained his glass and went off. When he had gone Jefferson turned

to Austin and smiled.

"I reckon nothing's doing!"

"Then why did you promise to talk about it?"

"I am talking about it," Jefferson rejoined. "I didn't want Wolf to

imagine I'd resolved to turn down his proposition."

"After all, I don't think he meant to cheat us."

"Not in a sense. He knows you're not a fool and Don Pancho's very keen."

"Then what does he want?" Austin asked.

"I don't know; I'm curious. Anyhow, he doesn't want me, although if you

and Don Pancho joined, he reckoned I'd come in. I'm not a British

merchant; I'm an American."

"But what has this to do with it?"

"I allow I don't altogether see. Anyhow, Wolf's a German." Austin looked

puzzled and Jefferson smiled. "You don't get me yet? The fellow has

cultivated out his accent and claims he's English. That's important,

because he got his English in the United States and doesn't claim he's

American. When I talked about Chicago and Munich I made an experiment."

"He admitted he knew the cities."

"That is so. He saw I was on his track and he mustn't bluff. If I'd met

Wolf in the United States, I mightn't have been prejudiced, but I met

him at Grand Canary, starting a trade with Spanish Africa. I reckon the

Spaniards are sore about Morocco. At the grab-game, France and Britain

scooped the pool; Germany and Spain got stung. Anyhow, I've no use for

taking a part in world politics, and when Musgrave has gone a voyage or

two in _Mossamedes_ I'll try to get him off the ship."

"I wonder whether you know Jacinta sent him on board?"

Jefferson smiled. "Does Jacinta trust Wolf? Talk to her about the deal,

and if she approves I'll come in."

"Very well," said Austin, and they started for the town.

When Jefferson returned to his office a clerk brought in a note. "From

Don Enrique, sir."

Jefferson opened the envelope and laughed, for the note ran: "Nothing

doing in camels. Jacinta does not approve."

"Sometimes a woman's judgment is sound, Miss Jordan," he remarked. "Mrs.

Austin doesn't know all I know, but she gets where I get, and I think

she got there first."

"It is strange," Betty said quietly.

"One doesn't know when you're amused and when you're not," Jefferson

rejoined. "However, I want you to send Wolf a note."

"_Dear Mr. Wolf?_" Betty suggested.

"I reckon _dear sir_ will meet the bill," said Jefferson dryly. "Then

let's see, 'In reference to our conversation this morning, after careful

consideration, we regret we cannot see our way to entertain your

proposition.' Pretty good office English?"

"There are three _'tions_," Betty observed.

"Proposition's all right," said Jefferson thoughtfully. "Fix the others

as you like. You know the sort of thing."

He went up the outside stair and found Mrs. Jefferson on the balcony.

"If Musgrave's not a philanderer, he's mighty dull," he said. "I'd like

you to have seen Miss Jordan just now. A model clerk, very cool and

business-like, manner exactly right. All the same, before I got started

she saw where I was going and I guess she smiled."

"It's very possible," Mrs. Jefferson agreed. "Well, perhaps it's lucky

I'm not jealous!"

"You're not jealous, but if I've got an eye for fine and pretty things,

you're accountable. Once on a time I reckoned a big sailing ship,

close-hauled on the wind with all she'd carry set, was beautiful; I

hadn't seen you talking to our guests across the fruit and flowers. Now

I'm thankful for all beauty; things men made like sailing ships, and

pretty girls. Betty in white by the bougainvillea, Olivia on the veranda

in her black and gold. This old world is charming since you opened my

eyes."

"For a business man, you're sometimes extravagant," Mrs. Jefferson

replied. "All the same, you are a dear."

Jefferson turned and looked over the balcony. A young man who wore

spotless white flannel and a red silk belt crossed the flags. He stopped

abruptly when Jefferson shouted: "Hello!"

"We thought if you were going to haul up _Cayman_ for scraping, you'd

like to know our tug is off the slip," the other remarked.

"Thanks!" said Jefferson dryly. "You needn't bother Miss Jordan about

it. _Cayman_'s gone to Palma."

The young man recrossed the flags and Jefferson laughed. "His last brain

wave was to see if _Cayman_ would take coal across for ballast and he

could keep us some hefty lumps. Yesterday two banana men blew in with a

fool proposition about my sending fruit to Africa, and before they were

through, Walters from the cold store arrived. Looks as if I'd got to put

up barbed wire."

"Oh, well," said Mrs. Jefferson, "I don't suppose a sailing ship is

their standard of beauty. Besides, the big sailing ships are gone."

Betty, studying some figures in the office, heard Jefferson stop the

coaling clerk and smiled. Young men from the coal wharfs and fruit

stores arrived rather often when they thought her employer was not

about, and if she was not occupied she sometimes let them talk. For the

most part they were a careless, good-humoured lot and she liked their

cheerfulness, but this was all. When she refused Kit at Liverpool she

was resolved he must get his chance; now it looked as if she had got

hers she was not moved.

She contrasted him with the others. They frankly amused her, and

sometimes Kit was dull. Yet she sensed in his soberness something fine

that did not mark the rest. They joked and did not bother; Kit bothered

much. Betty liked his tight-mouthed, thoughtful look. His habit was to

weigh things, but when he was satisfied he went stubbornly ahead. Betty

wondered whether he was satisfied about Olivia. Then, with something of

an effort, she resumed her calculations.

Kit Musgrave's Luck · 第 5 / 13 章