IN THE CITY
Messrs. Dodge & Co., of Leadenhall Street, possessed business premises
of greater pretensions than Bruce had pictured to himself from Mrs.
Hillmer's description of their transactions with her brother.
Not only were their offices commodious and well situated, but a liberal
display of gold lettering, intermingled with official brass plates
marking the registering offices of many companies, gave evidence of some
degree of importance--whether fictitious or otherwise Bruce could not
determine, as he scrutinized the exterior of the building on the
following morning.
Moreover, workmen were even then busy in substituting the title "Dodge,
Son & Co., Ltd.," for "Messrs. Dodge & Company," the suggestive nature
of the latter designation having perhaps proved a stumbling-block in the
way of the guileless investor.
When the barrister entered the office, a busy place, a hive of many
clerks, and adorned with gigantic maps of the Rand, West Australia,
Cripple Creek, and Klondike, he asked for "Mr. Dodge."
His card procured him ready admission. He was shown into an elaborately
upholstered apartment of considerable size. At the farther end, seated
in front of a gorgeous American desk, was a young man who ostentatiously
finished a letter and then motioned the barrister to a seat.
Bruce was curious on the question of the age of the head of the firm.
"Are you Mr. Dodge, or the son?" he said, with the utmost gravity.
The other was taken back by this unexpected method of opening the
conversation. It annoyed him.
"I am the representative of the firm, sir, and fully able to deal with
your business, whatever it may be," he replied.
"No doubt. But it will simplify matters if I know exactly to whom I am
addressing myself."
After an uneasy shuffling in his seat--he could not guess what this
keen-faced, earnest-eyed lawyer might want--the representative of
Messrs. Dodge, Son & Co. (Limited) explained that he was Dodge, and the
name of the firm had been adopted for general purposes.
"Then there is no 'son,' I take it."
"Yes, there is, sir,"--this with a snort of anger.
"How old is he?"
"What the Dickens has that got to do with it? Will you kindly tell me
what you want, sir, as my time is fully occupied?"
"Just now I want to know how old the 'son' is?"
This calm persistence irritated Mr. Dodge beyond endurance.
"Three years, confound you, and his sister is four months. Can I oblige
you with any more details concerning my family affairs?"
Having purposely raised this man to boiling point by this harmless
method of examination, Claude tackled the real business in hand. He was
quite sure that a financial sharper in a temper was far more likely to
blurt out the truth than if he were approached in a matter-of-fact
manner.
"To begin with," he explained, never taking his eyes off the furious
face of Mr. Dodge, "I have called to ask for information with regard to
your dealings with Mr. Sydney H. Corbett, of Raleigh Mansions, Sloane
Square."
"I never heard of him in my life. You have evidently come to the wrong
office, Mr. Bruce."
"Are you quite sure?"
"Well, nearly so. However, I can tell you in a moment, as it is
impossible for me to carry every name connected with several companies
in my memory."
Mr. Dodge recovered his temper now that he saw a chance of disconcerting
his caustic visitor. He touched an electric bell, and told the answering
youth to send Mr. Hawkins.
"My correspondence clerk," he explained loftily when Hawkins entered.
"Are we in communication with any one named Sydney H. Corbett, Mr.
Hawkins?"
"No, sir."
"Have you ever heard the name?"
"No, sir."
"That will do. You may go. You see you have come to the wrong shop, Mr.
Bruce."
"Yes, so I see."
The barrister kept looking at the back of Mr. Dodge's head, but made no
move.
Mr. Dodge became puzzled.
"Now, Mr. Bruce," he cried, "you know the age of my son, and the extent
of my information about Mr. Corbett. Is there anything else in which I
may be of service?"
"Yes. You do a great deal of underwriting, mostly for the flotation of
gold-mining companies?"
"Y--yes. That is a branch of our business."
"I am interested in this class of undertaking, and I was given to
understand that Mr. Corbett has had some dealings with you in a similar
respect for a considerable sum of money."
"The name is absolutely unknown to me."
"Of course. So I gather. I am sorry to hear it. Several clients of mine
have money to invest in that way, and I naturally came to a firm whose
name apparently figured largely in the transactions of Mr. Corbett."
It was good to see the manner in which Mr. Dodge metaphorically kicked
himself for his previous attitude. His emotion was painful. For quite an
appreciable time he could not trust his sentiments to words.
At last he struggled to express himself.
"Really, Mr. Bruce, if you had only put things differently. Don't you
see, it rather upset me when you came in and began jawing about the
youngsters. And then you spring Mr. Corbett's name on me--a man of whom
I have no sort of knowledge. It must have been my firm of which your
friends heard. There is absolutely no other Dodge in Leadenhall Street.
Indeed, we are the only financial Dodges--that is--er--Messrs. Dodge,
Son & Co. (Limited) are the only firm of the name dealing with financial
matters--in the city."
By this time Bruce had assured himself that Mr. Dodge did not know Mr.
Corbett's identity, and if Mrs. Hillmer's brother had changed his name
to conceal himself from Dodge, it was likely to be successful.
"Anyhow, I am here, Mr. Dodge," he said cheerfully, "so I may as well
enter into negotiations with you. Have you any good things in hand at
this moment?"
"Some of the best. We are just waiting for the market to ease a bit,
and we shall have at least five splendid properties to place before the
public. By the way, do you smoke?"
Bruce did smoke; and Mr. Dodge produced a box of excellent cigars. Then
he warmed to his work.
"Here is the prospectus of the Golden Halo Mine, capital L150,000, for
which the vendors are asking L140,000 in cash, with a working capital of
L10,000. The ore now in sight is estimated to produce two millions
sterling, and the mine is not one-tenth developed. We are offering
underwriters ten per cent in cash, and there is not the slightest risk,
as the shares will stand at a high premium within a few days after the
lists--"
"It sounds most promising," said Bruce; "but my principals are more
interested in taking up concerns which have been already established,
but in which, for want of sufficient capital, the vendors' shares have,
by a process of reconstruction, come into the market. If you have
anything of that kind--"
"The very thing," interrupted Dodge excitedly. "The Springbok Mine will
just suit 'em. After all is said and done, Golden Halos are a bit in the
air, between you and me. But the Springbok is a genuine article. It was
capitalized for a quarter of a million, and the directors went to
allotment on a subscription list of about L14,000. This money has been
expended, but twice the amount is necessary to develop the property
properly. A call was made on the shares, but no one paid up, and there
is a talk of compulsory reconstruction. Believe me, money put into it
now will yield two hundred per cent in dividends within twelve months."
"There is a whiff of scent on this trail," said Claude to himself. He
added aloud: "That looks promising. Can you give me details?"
"By all means. Here is the original prospectus." Bruce glanced through
the document, which dealt with the Springbok claims on the Rand with
more candor than is usually exhibited in such compilations. Judging from
the reports of several mining engineers of repute it really looked as
if, this time, Mr. Dodge were speaking with some degree of accuracy.
"This reads well," said Bruce. "What proportion of share capital is
falling in on the reconstruction scheme?"
"I hold fifty thousand shares myself," cried Dodge, "and though my money
is locked up just now I am so convinced about this mine that I will
manage to pay the call myself. Roughly speaking, there are one hundred
and fifty thousand shares to be underwritten at, say, three shillings
each."
"And who are the present holders?"
The barrister asked the question in the most unconcerned way imaginable,
yet upon the answer depended the whole success or otherwise of this
hitherto unproductive mission.
Mr. Dodge was manifestly anxious.
"I take it that we are talking with a definite view to business?" he
said.
The barrister hesitated. Even in the detection of a crime a man does not
care to tell a deliberate lie, and Dodge's attitude so far had been
candid enough. The Springbok Mine honestly looked to be a good
speculative investment, so he resolved to place the proposition before
one or two friends who dealt with similar matters, and who were fully
able to look after their own interests.
"Yes," he answered, "I am here for that purpose. If my principals like
this thing they will go in for it."
"Then here is the vendors' list," said Mr. Dodge, taking a foolscap
sheet from a drawer.
Claude perused it nonchalantly. His quick eyes took in each name and
address out of half-a-dozen, and rejected all as being in no way
connected with the man whose antecedents he was seeking.
Yet, where possible, he left nothing to chance.
"Have you any objection to a copy being made?" he asked.
Mr. Dodge hummed doubtfully.
"You see," went on the barrister, "it is best to be quite candid with
people whom you wish to bring into risky if apparently high promising
ventures. I presume these gentlemen are moneyless. If so, it is a factor
in favor of your scheme. Should any of them be men of means, my
principals would naturally ask why they did not themselves underwrite
the shares."
Mr. Dodge was convinced. "From that point of view," he cried
emphatically, "they are above suspicion. Jot them down, sir."
The barrister armed himself with the necessary documents, and they
parted with mutual good wishes. It was only after reflection that Mr.
Dodge saw how remarkably little he had got out of the interview. "He was
a jolly smart chap," communed the company promoter. "I wonder what he
was really after. And who the dickens is Mr. Sydney H. Corbett? Anyhow,
the Springbok business is quite above board. How can I raise the wind
for my little lot?"
If Mr. Bruce had probed more deeply Mr. Dodge's holding, he would have
been saved much future perturbation. But, clever as he was, he did not
know all the methods of financial juggling practised by experts on the
Stock Exchange.
A hansom brought him quickly to Portman Square. In fulfilment of his
promise, he was about to place Sir Charles Dyke in possession of his
recent discoveries.
When the door of Wensley House opened, the butler, Thompson, who
happened to be in the hall, anticipated the footman's answer to Bruce's
inquiry.
"Sir Chawles left yesterday for Bournemouth, sir. 'E was that hovercome
by the weather an' his trouble that 'e has gone for a few days' rest at
the seaside. If you called, sir, I was to tell you 'e would be glad to
see you there should you find it convenient to run down. And, sir,
you'll never guess who came 'ere this morning, as bold as brass."
"Jane Harding."
"Now, 'ow upon earth can you 'it upon things that way, sir? It was 'er,
'er very self. And you ought to 'ave seen her airs. 'Thompson,' sez she,
'is Sir Chawles at 'ome?' 'No, 'e isn't,' sez I; 'but you're wanted at
the polis station.' She was in a keb, and she 'ad asked a butcher's boy
to pull the bell, so 'im and the cabby larfed. 'Thompson,' she said,
very red in the face, 'I'll 'ave you dismissed for your impidence.' An'
off she went. Did you ever 'ear anythink like it, sir?"
"No, Thompson, Miss Harding is certainly a cool hand."
Bruce walked to his chambers, and his stroll through the parks was
engrossed by one subject of thought. It was not Mrs. Hillmer, nor
Corbett, nor Dodge who troubled him. What puzzled him more than all else
was the "impidence" of Jane Harding.