A Millionaire of Yesterday
    

       Trent nodded.     

       “He is as dead,” he said, “as Julius Caesar.”      

       “If I offered you—” Da Souza began.     

       “If you offered me four thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine pounds,”        Trent interrupted roughly, “I would tell you to go to glory.”      

       Da Souza sighed. It was a hard man to deal with—this.     

       “Very well,” he said, “if I give way, if I agree to your terms, you will be willing to make over this sixth share to me, both on your own account and on account of your late partner?”      

       “You're right, mate,” Trent assented. “Plank down the brass, and it's a deal.”      

       “I will give you four thousand pounds for a quarter share,” Da Souza said.     

       Trent knocked the ashes from his pipe and stood up.     

       “Here, don't waste any more of my time,” he said. “Stand out of the way, I'm off.”      

       Da Souza kept his hands upon the concession.     

       “My dear friend,” he said, “you are so violent. You are so abrupt. Now listen. I will give you five thousand for a quarter share. It is half my fortune.”      

       “Give me the concession,” Trent said. “I'm off.”      

       “For a fifth,” Da Souza cried.     

       Trent moved to the door without speech. Da Souza groaned.     

       “You will ruin me,” he said, “I know it. Come then, five thousand for a sixth share. It is throwing money away.”      

       “If you think so, you'd better not part,” Trent said, still lingering in the doorway. “Just as you say. I don't care.”      

       For a full minute Da Souza hesitated. He had an immense belief in the richness of the country set out in the 
 Prev. P 38/202 next 
Back Top
Privacy Statement Terms of Service Contact