CHAPTER VI
The acquisition of West End premises presented no particulardifficulty, and in a few weeks' time behold a transformed andglorified Jacob Pratt, seated in a cushioned swivel chair beforea roll-top desk, in an exceedingly handsomely appointed officeoverlooking Waterloo Place. The summit of one of his ambitions hadbeen easily gained. The cut of his black morning coat and neat greytrousers, the patent shoes and spats, his irreproachable linen, andthe modest but beautiful pearl pin which reposed in his satin tie wereindications of thoughtful and well-directed hours spent in the veryMecca of a man's sartorial ambitions. Standing by his side, with apacket of correspondence in his hand, Dauncey, in his sober, darkserge suit, presented a very adequate representation of the part ofconfidential assistant and secretary to a financial magnate.
"Nothing but begging letters again this morning," he announced; "fourhospitals; the widow of an officer, still young, who desires a smallloan and would prefer a personal interview; and the daughter of arural dean down in the country, pining for London life, and onlywanting a start in any position where good looks, an excellent figure,and a bright and loving disposition would be likely to meet with theirdue reward."
"Hm!" Jacob muttered. "Pitch 'em into the waste-paper basket."
"There are a packet of prospectuses--"
"Send them along, too."
"And a proposal from a Mr. Poppleton Watts that you should endow anational theatre, for which he offers himself as actor manager. Youprovide the cash, and he takes the whole responsibility off yourshoulders. The letter is dated from the Corn Exchange, MarketHarborough."
"Scrap him with the rest," Jacob directed, leaning back in his chair."Anything more you want for the place, Dick?"
The two men looked around. There were rows of neatly arranged files,all empty; an unused typewriter; a dictaphone and telephone. The outeroffice, where Dauncey spent much of his time, was furnished with thesame quiet elegance as the inner apartment. There seemed to be nothinglacking.
"A larger waste-paper basket is the only thing I can suggest," Daunceyobserved drily.
Then came the sound for which, with different degrees of interest,both men had been waiting since the opening of the offices a fortnightbefore. There was a tap at the outer door, the sound of a bell andfootsteps in the passage. Dauncey hurried out, closing the door ofthe private office behind him. His chief drew a packet of papers froma receptacle in his desk, forced a frown on to his smooth forehead,and buried himself in purposeless calculations.
Dauncey confronted the visitors. There were two of them--one whoseorientalism of speech and features was unsuccessfully camouflagedby the splendour of his city attire, the other a rather burly,middle-aged man, in a worn tweed suit, carrying a bowler hat, with nogloves, and having the general appearance of a builder or tradesmanof some sort. His companion took the lead.
"Is Mr. Jacob Pratt in?" he enquired.
"Mr. Pratt is in but very busy," Dauncey answered doubtfully. "Haveyou an appointment?"
"We have not, but we are willing to await Mr. Pratt's convenience,"was the eager reply. "Will you be so good as to take in my card? Mr.Montague, my name is--Mr. Dane Montague."
Dauncey accepted the mission after a little hesitation, knockedreverently at the door of the inner office, and went in on tiptoe,closing the door behind him. He presented the card to Jacob, who wasbusily engaged in polishing the tip of one of his patent shoes with afragment of blotting paper.
"A full-blown adventure," he announced. "A man who looks like amoney-lender, and another who might be his client."
"Did they state the nature of their business?" Jacob demanded.
"They did not, but it is written in the face of Mr. Dane Montague. Hewants as much of your million as he can induce you to part with. Whathis methods may be, however, I don't know."
"Show them in when I ring the bell," Jacob directed, drawing thepacket of papers once more towards him. "Extraordinarily complicatedmass of figures here," he added.
Dauncey withdrew into the outer office, closing the door behind himand still walking on tiptoe.
"Mr. Pratt will see you in a few minutes," he said, with the air ofone who imparts great news. "Please be seated."
The two men subsided into chairs. Dauncey thrust a sheet of paper intoa typewriter and desperately dashed off a few lines to an imaginarycorrespondent. Then the bell from the inner office rang, and,beckoning the two men to follow him, he opened the door of Jacob'ssanctum and ushered them in. Mr. Dane Montague advanced to the deskwith a winning smile.
"My name is Dane Montague," he announced, ostentatiously drawing offhis glove and holding out a white, pudgy hand. "I am delighted to meetyou, Mr. Pratt. This is my friend, Mr. James Littleham. The name maybe known to you in connection with various building contracts."
Jacob thrust away the papers upon which he had been engaged, with anair of resignation.
"Pray be seated, gentlemen," he invited. "My time is scarcely my ownjust now. May I ask you to explain the nature of your business in asfew words as possible?"
"Those are my methods exactly," Mr. Dane Montague declared, throwinghimself into the client's chair, balancing his finger tips together,and frowning slightly. It was in this position that he had once beenphotographed as the organiser of a stillborn Exhibition.
"My friend Littleham," he continued, "is a builder of greatexperience. I am, in my small way, a financier. We have called topropose a business enterprise to you."
"Go on," Jacob said.
"You are doubtless aware that large sums of money have recently beenmade by the exploitation in suitable spots of what have become knownas Garden Cities."
Jacob gave a noncommittal nod and his visitor cleared his throat.
"Mr. Littleham and I have a scheme which goes a little further," hewent on. "We have discovered a tract of land within easy distance ofLondon, where genuine country residences can be built and offered at aridiculously moderate cost."
"Land speculation, eh?"
"Not a speculation at all," was the prompt reply. "A certainty!Littleham, please oblige me with that plan."
Mr. Littleham produced an architect's roll from his pocket. Hiscompanion spread it out upon the desk before Jacob and drew animitation gold pencil from his pocket.
"All along here," he explained, tapping upon the plan, "is a common,sloping gently towards the south. The views all around are wonderful.The air is superb. There are five hundred acres of it. Here," he wenton, tapping a round spot, "is a small town, the name of which we willnot mention for the moment. The Great Central expresses stop here.The journey to town takes forty minutes. That five hundred acres ofland can be bought for twenty thousand pounds. It can be resold inhalf-acre and acre lots for building purposes at a profit of thirtyor forty per cent."
"The price of the land, if it is according to your description, islow," Jacob remarked. "Why?"
Mr. Dane Montague flashed an excellently simulated look of admirationat his questioner.
"That's a shrewd question, Mr. Pratt," he confessed. "We are going tobe honest and aboveboard with you. The price is low because the UrbanCouncil of this town here"--tapping on the plan--"will not enter intoany scheme for supplying lighting or water outside the three-mileboundary."
"Then what's the use of the land for building?" Jacob demanded.
"I will explain," the other continued. "Situated here, two miles fromour land, are the premises, works and reservoir of the Cropstone Wood,Water and Electric Light Company. They are in a position to supplyeverything in that way which the new colony might desire."
"A going concern?" Jacob enquired.
"Certainly!" was the prompt reply. "But it is in connection with thisCompany that we expect to make a certain additional profit."
Jacob glanced at the clock.
"You must hurry," he enjoined.
"The Cropstone Wood Company," Mr. Dane Montague confided, "is in apoorish way of business. The directors are sick of their job. Theyknow nothing about our plan for bu
ilding on the estate, and, to cut along story short, we have secured a six months' option to purchase thewhole concern at a very low price. As soon as the building commenceson the common, we shall exercise that option. We shall make a handsomeprofit on the rise in the shares of the Cropstone Wood Company, butour proposal is to work the company ourselves. At the price we canoffer them at, it is certain that every building lot will be sold.Mr. Littleham here has prepared a specification of various forms ofdomiciles suited to the neighbourhood."
Mr. Littleham, in a remarkably thick voice, intervened.
"I can run 'em up six-roomers at three hundred quid; eight and tenat five; and a country villa, with half an acre of garden, for athousand," he announced, relapsing at the conclusion of his sentenceinto his former state of sombre watching.
"There's a very fair profit to be made, you see," Mr. Dane Montaguepointed out, "on the sale of the land and houses, without going moreclosely into the figures, but we want to be dead straight with you,Mr. Pratt. There should be an additional profit on the electric lightand water which we supply from the Cropstone Wood Company."
"I see," Jacob remarked thoughtfully. "When they've bought their land,and the houses are beginning to materialise, you can charge them whatyou like for the water and lighting."
Mr. Dane Montague beamed, with the air of one whose faith in theshrewdness of a fellow creature has been justified.
"You've hit the bull's-eye," he declared. "We've got the cost ofservice all worked out, and, added to the price we'll have to pay forthe Company, it don't come to more than forty thousand pounds. Then weshall have the whole thing in our own hands and can charge what wedamned well please."
Jacob leaned back in his chair and surveyed his two visitors. Therewas a gleam in his eyes which might have meant admiration--orpossibly something else. Neither of the two men noticed it.
"It's quite a scheme," he remarked.
"It's a gold mine," Mr. Dane Montague pronounced enthusiastically.
"There'll be pickings every way," the builder murmured thickly, with acovetous gleam in his eyes.
Jacob glanced at his watch.
"I'll see the property this afternoon," he promised. "If yourstatement is borne out by the facts, I am willing to come in with you.How much money do you require from me?"
Mr. Dane Montague coughed. Mr. Littleham looked more stolid than ever.
"The fact of the matter is," the former explained, "Mr. Littleham hereis tied up with so much land that he has very little of the ready tospare at present. Personally, I have been so fortunate lately in theCity, had so many good things brought to me by my pals, that I ampretty well up to the neck until things begin to move."
Jacob studied the speaker thoughtfully. He was an observant person,and he noticed that Mr. Dane Montague's glossy hat showed signs offrequent ironing, that there were traces of ink at the seams of hisblack coat, and the suggestion of a patch on the patent boot whichlingered modestly under his chair.
"You mean, I suppose, that you wish me to provide the whole of thecapital?" Jacob remarked.
Mr. Dane Montague coughed.
"You happen to be the only one of the trio who has it in fluid form,"he pointed out. "It would suit us better to recognise you a littlemore generously in the partition of the profits as the land is sold,and for you to finance the whole thing."
"I have no objection to that," Jacob decided, "provided I am satisfiedin other respects. How far is this delectable spot by road?"
"Twenty-two miles," Mr. Littleham replied. "Barely that if you knowthe way."
"I will inspect the property this afternoon," Jacob announced.
"Capital!" Mr. Dane Montague exclaimed. "You are a man after my ownheart, Mr. Pratt. You strike while the iron's hot. Now what about alittle lunch, say at the Milan, before starting?"
"On condition that I am allowed to be host," Jacob stipulated, "Ishall be delighted."
Mr. Dane Montague chuckled. The suggestion relieved him of a certaindisquietude regarding the contents of his pocketbook.
"No objection to that, I am sure, Mr. Pratt," he declared. "Eh,Littleham? At one o'clock at the Milan Grill, then."
"You can rely upon me," Jacob promised.
He entertained his two new friends to a very excellent lunch, but heinsisted upon bidding them au revoir on the threshold of therestaurant. Jacob had views of his own about inspecting the CropstoneWood Estate.
"I wish to form a wholly unbiased opinion as regards the value of theproperty," he declared, "and I should much prefer to walk over italone. Besides, if we are all of us seen there together--"
"I quite understand," Mr. Dane Montague interrupted. "Not anotherword, Mr. Pratt. Littleham, direct Mr. Pratt's driver," he added. "Ihave never been down by road myself."
Littleham entered into explanations with the chauffeur, and Mr.Montague conversed in low but earnest tones with Jacob upon thepavement.
"Don't think, Mr. Pratt," he said, "that we are asking you to takepart in a speculation, because we are not. That land at forty poundsan acre is a gift. You could buy it and forget all about it for tenyears, and I wouldn't mind guaranteeing that you doubled your capital.It's just one of those amazing chances which come now and then in aman's lifetime. The only thing that rather put us in a corner was thefact that the money has to be found within forty-eight hours. Thatwon't worry you, Mr. Pratt."
"It will make no difference to me," Jacob admitted.
"Then good luck to you and a pleasant journey," was Mr. Montague'svalediction.
Jacob called for Dauncey, and after an hour's ride they had tea in asmall country town and walked along the edge of the common which Mr.Dane Montague had described. From the top of the ridge they obtaineda fair view of the entire property. Jacob sat upon a boulder, lit acigarette and contemplated it thoughtfully. He confessed himselfpuzzled.
"They look wrong 'uns, those two," he observed, "but this land's allright, Dauncey. It's a capital building site."
Dauncey plucked at his lower lip.
"I don't know anything about property," he admitted. "Never owned ayard of land in my life. Yet it seems to me there must be a hitchsomewhere."
A young man came strolling along the path, apparently on his way tothe town. Jacob accosted him politely.
"Good evening, sir."
"Good evening," the other replied, a little gloomily.
"Fine view here," Jacob observed.
"Not bad," the newcomer answered, without enthusiasm.
Jacob produced his case, and the young man accepted a cigarette.
"Are you a resident in these parts, may I ask?" Jacob enquired.
"For my sins. I've just set up an office in Cropstone."
"Are you, by any chance, a lawyer?"
The young man laughed.
"Do I carry my profession about with me to that extent? Yes, I'm alawyer. Mark Wiseman, my name is."
"Not too many clients yet, eh?" Jacob asked kindly.
The aspirant to legal fame made a grimace.
"Too near London."
Jacob looked down the ridge.
"Fine building property this seems," he observed.
The other assented. "It's for sale, I believe."
"I happen to know that it's for sale," Jacob continued, "and at a verylow price, too. What's the drawback? The soil looks all right."
"The soil's good," the young man acquiesced. "Everything's good, Ibelieve. The great drawback is that it's just over three miles fromCropstone, where the lighting and water would have to come from."
"And what about that?"
"They won't supply it, that's all."
Jacob pointed to where an ornamental chimney, a power shed and a gleamof water appeared on the other side of a small wood.
"Isn't there a private company there?" he asked.
"Practically defunct. They used to supply Cropstone, but the UrbanCouncil there are running a show of their own."
"Water good?" Jacob enquired.
"I've never heard any complaints
."
Jacob glanced at his watch.
"If you would be so good as to call at the White Hart Hotel at halfpast six this evening," he said, "and ask for Mr. Jacob Pratt, thereis a small matter of business I should like you to undertake for me inthis neighbourhood."
The young lawyer's alacrity was not to be mistaken.
"I will be there without fail," he promised.
* * * * *
At eleven o'clock precisely, the next morning, Mr. Dane Montaguepresented himself for the second time at Jacob's offices, accompaniedthis time by a smaller, darker and glossier duplicate of himself, whomhe introduced as Mr. Sharpe, his solicitor. Jacob did not keep themlong in suspense.
"I have inspected the Cropstone Wood Estate," he announced, "and I amwilling to advance the twenty thousand pounds for its purchase."
Mr. Montague moistened his already too rubicund lips.
"I felt certain that you would not neglect such an opportunity," hesaid.
"The profits on the sale of the land in lots," Jacob continued, "are,I presume, to be divided equally amongst the three of us. As regardsthe houses which Mr. Littleham proposes to build, I will advancewhatever money is necessary for these, on mortgage, at six per centinterest, but the profit on the sale of these I should expect todivide."
Mr. Montague showed some signs of haste.
"I don't object," he assented suavely. "Littleham and I will take theother half. It is a great relief to me to get this matter settledquickly," he continued, "as I have an exceedingly busy day. There justremains one rather important point, Mr. Pratt. My offer of theproperty expires to-morrow, and the vendors might or might not bedisposed to extend the time. In any case, it would be better not toask them. Would it be possible to clinch this matter to-day?"
"Bring your agreement here," Jacob directed, "at three o'clock, and Iwill give you my cheque for the amount."
Mr. Sharpe reached for his hat.
"I can manage it," he said, in reply to a look from Montague, "but Ishall have to get along at once."
* * * * *
At a quarter past three that afternoon, Jacob wrote his cheque fortwenty thousand pounds, received a signed copy of the agreement withMessrs. Littleham and Montague, and sat by himself, whistling softlyand listening to their retreating footsteps. Dauncey came in, a fewmoments later, with a perplexed frown upon his forehead.
"Please may I look through the agreement?" he begged.
Jacob passed it over to him. He read it through slowly and carefully.
"Anything troubling you?" Jacob asked.
"I don't know what it is," Dauncey confessed. "The agreement seems allright, but I saw their faces when I let 'em out. I can't see the flaw,Jacob, but it's not an honest deal. They've got something up theirsleeve."
Jacob smiled.
"Perhaps you're right, Dick," he answered. "Anyway, lock the agreementup in the safe and don't worry."
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