Galusha the Magnificent Part 39

"Never too busy to talk business, a feller usually ain't; eh, Perfessor?

Haw, haw! I'd say he wan't, eh? Set down, set down and ease your mind.

What's the business question? Let 'er go."

Mr. Bangs let her go to the extent of stammering a request to be given his companion's candid opinion concerning the shares of the Wellmouth Development Company. He was--ah--somewhat interested in them, so he said.

Raish leaned back in his chair and scrutinized the questioner. He shot at least five deep-drawn puffs of smoke into the already murky air of the little office before replying.

"Humph!" he grunted, after the fifth puff. "Wellmouth Development Company, eh? You're interested in that, are you?"

"Why--ah--yes, yes. To a certain extent, yes, Mr. Pulcifer."

"Humph! What d'you mean, interested? How interested?"

"Why, as--ah--as an investment, you know. As something to put one's money into."

"Humph! Was you thinkin' of puttin' some of yours into it?"

"Why, not exactly. But, you see, a friend of mine--But, really, I think I shouldn't give any further particulars at the present time. You'll excuse me under the circ.u.mstances, Mr. Pulcifer, I'm sure. Dear me, I hope you will."

He was forgiven. Mr. Pulcifer a.s.sured him to that effect. But Raish was still uncertain just how to proceed. He continued to puff and scrutinize.

"What I wish to know," continued his caller, after another moment's interval, "is--well, in short, I should like to know your opinion of Wellmouth Development shares as an investment security."

"Um--ye-es. Well, you said that before."

"Did I? Dear me, I believe I did. Well, then, suppose, just suppose that I actually did wish to buy some of those shares. Would you consider it a good thing for me to do?"

Here at last was something tangible--and promising. Mr. Pulcifer's puffy lids drew nearer together to hide the gleam behind them. He took the cigar from his mouth and held it between the fingers of his right hand.

During his next speech he gesticulated with it.

"Would I consid--" he began, and then paused, apparently overcome by his feelings. The pause was not long, however. "Would I consider Wellmouth Development a good thing for you to put your money in? WOULD I?"

"Ah--yes. Would you?"

"Say, Perfessor, you listen to me. _I_ know all about Wellmouth Development. You've come to the right place. You listen."

Galusha listened, listened for a long time. The red of the Pulcifer cigar tip died out and that of the Pulcifer face brightened.

"And so I say," vowed Raish, in conclusion, "with all that property behind it and all that future ahead of it, if Development ain't a good investment, what is?"

"I don't know, I'm sure," confessed Galusha. "But--"

"Don't know? You bet you don't know! Nor n.o.body else. Not for quick returns, maybe--though you can't never tell. But for a feller that's willin' to buy and put away and hang on--say, how can you beat it?"

"I don't know, but--"

"You bet you don't know! The main thing is to buy right. And I'm goin'

to put you wise--yes, sir, wise to somethin' I wouldn't let every Tom, d.i.c.k, and Harry in on, by a consider'ble sight. I think I can locate a fair-sized block of that stock at--well, at a little bit underneath the market price. I believe--yes, sir, I believe I can get it for you at--at as low as eighteen dollars a share. I won't swear I can, of course, but I MAY be able to. Only you'll have to promise not to tell anybody how you got it."

"Eighteen dollars a share? Is that a fair price, do you think, Mr.

Pulcifer?"

"FAIR price?" Mr. Pulcifer was overcome by the absurdity of the question. "A fair price!" he repeated. "Man alive, it's a darned LOW price! You buy Wellmouth Development at that price and then set back and hang on. Yes, sir, that's all you'll have to do, just hang on and wait."

To his surprise, Mr. Bangs seemed to find something humorous in this suggestion. Instead of appearing thrilled, as he certainly should, he smiled.

"Ah--yes," he observed, quietly. "That is what my friend has been doing, I believe. Yes, indeed, just that."

Raish did not smile. He looked puzzled and a bit perturbed.

"What friend?" he demanded. "Been doin' what?"

"Hanging on and waiting, as you advise, Mr. Pulcifer. She has had--ah--several shares of the Development stock and she--"

"Hold on! Did you come here to SELL somebody's stock for 'em?"

"Why, no, not exactly. But, as I say, a friend of mine has some and she was anxious to know what it was worth at the present time. When I tell her that you will give eighteen dollars a share for it--"

"Here!" Raish's smile and his urbanity had vanished. "Here," he demanded, "what are you talkin' about? Who the devil said anything about my givin' eighteen dollars a share?"

"Why, I understood you to say that the--ah--shares were cheap at that figure, that it was a very low price for them. You did say that, didn't you?"

Mr. Pulcifer seemed to find articulation difficult. He blew and sputtered like a stranded porpoise and his face became redder than ever, but he did not answer the question.

"I understood--" began Galusha, again, but a roar interrupted him.

"Aw, you understand too darn much," shouted Raish. "You go back and tell Martha Phipps I say I don't know what them shares of hers are worth and I don't care. You tell her I don't want to buy 'em and I don't know anybody that does. Yes, and you tell her that if I did know anybody that was fool enough to bid one dollar of real money for 'em I'd sell him mine and be darn glad of the chance. And say, you tell her not to bother me no more. She took her chance same as the rest of us, and if she don't like it she can go--Eh? What is it?"

His caller had risen, rather suddenly for him, and was standing beside the desk. There was a peculiar expression on his thin face.

"What's the matter?" demanded Mr. Pulcifer. Galusha's gaze was very direct.

"I wouldn't say that," he said, quietly.

"Eh? Say what? I was just goin' to say that if Martha Phipps didn't like waitin' same as the rest of us she--"

"Yes, yes," hastily, "I know. But I shouldn't say it, if I were you."

"You wouldn't. Why not, for thunder sakes?"

"Because--well, I am sure you were speaking hastily--without thinking."

"Is that so? How do YOU know I wasn't thinkin'?"

"Because I am sure no one who had stopped to think would send that sort of message to a lady."

"Humph!... Well, I swear!... Wouldn't send--I want to know!"