Bones designed a circular table, so that, if any of the workmen forgot
to fix a bar or a nut or a wheel, the error could be rectified when the
car came round again. The Plover car should be a household word. Its
factories should spread over North London, and every year there should
be a dinner with Bones in the chair, and a beautiful secretary on his
right, and Bones should make speeches announcing the amount of the
profits which were to be distributed to his thousands of hands in the
shape of bonuses.
Hamilton came promptly at ten o'clock, and he came violently. He flew
into the office and banged a paper down on Bones's desk with the
enthusiasm of one who had become the sudden possessor of money which he
had not earned.
"Dear old thing, dear old thing," said Bones testily, "remember dear
old Dicky Orum--preserve the decencies, dear old Ham. You're not in
the Wild West now, my cheery boy."
"Bones," shouted Hamilton, "you're my mascot! Do you know what has
happened?"
"Lower your voice, lower your voice, dear old friend," protested Bones.
"My typewriter mustn't think I am quarrelling."
"He came last night," said Hamilton, "just as I was going to bed, and
knocked me up." He was almost incoherent in his joy. "He offered me
three thousand five hundred pounds for my shares, and I took it like a
shot."
Bones gaped at him.
"Offered you three thousand five hundred?" he gasped. "Good heavens!
You don't mean to say----"
Consider the tragedy of that moment. Here was Bones, full of great
schemes for establishing a car upon the world's markets, who had in his
head planned extensive works, who saw in his mind's eye vistas of long,
white-covered festive boards, and heard the roar of cheering which
greeted him when he rose to propose continued prosperity to the firm.
Consider also that his cheque was on the table before him, already made
out and signed. He was at that moment awaiting the arrival of Mr.
Soames.
And then to this picture, tangible or fanciful, add Mr. Charles O.
Soames himself, ushered through the door of the outer office and
standing as though stricken to stone at the sight of Bones and Hamilton
in consultation.
"Good morning," said Bones.
Mr. Soames uttered a strangled cry and strode to the centre of the
room, his face working.
"So it was a ramp, was it?" he said. "A swindle, eh? You put this up
to get your pal out of the cart?"
"My dear old----" began Bones in a shocked voice.
"I see how it was done. Well, you've had me for three thousand five
hundred, and your pal's lucky. That's all I've got to say. It is the
first time I've ever been caught; and to be caught by a mug like
you----"