"Them" was one well-dressed young man in a shiny silk hat, who, whenadmitted to the inner sanctum, came soberly across the room, balancinghis hat.

"Ah, Mr. Pole – Mr. Fred Pole." Bones read the visitor's card with thescowl which he adopted for business hours. "Yes, yes. Be seated, Mr.Pole. I shall not keep you a minute."

He had been waiting all the morning for Mr. Pole. He had been weavingdreams from the letter-heading above Mr. Pole's letter.

Ships … ships … house-flags … brass-buttoned owners…

He waved Mr. Fred to a chair and wrote furiously. This franticpressure of work was a phenomenon which invariably coincided with thearrival of a visitor. It was, I think, partly due to nervousness andpartly to his dislike of strangers. Presently he finished, blotted thepaper, stuck it in an envelope, addressed it, and placed it in hisdrawer. Then he took up the card.

"Mr. Pole?" he said.

"Mr. Pole," repeated that gentleman.

"Mr. Fred Pole?" asked Bones, with an air of surprise.

"Mr. Fred Pole," admitted the other soberly.

Bones looked from the card to the visitor as though he could notbelieve his eyes.

"We have a letter from you somewhere," he said, searching the desk.

"Ah, here it is!" (It was, in fact, the only document on the table.)

"Yes, yes, to be sure. I'm very glad to meet you."

He rose, solemnly shook hands, sat down again and coughed. Then hetook up the ivory paper-knife to chew, coughed again as he detected thelapse, and put it down with a bang.

"I thought I'd like to come along and see you, Mr. Tibbetts," said Fredin his gentle voice; "we are so to speak, associated in business."

"Indeed?" said Bones. "In-deed?"

"You see, Mr. Tibbetts," Fred went on, with a sad smile, "your lamenteduncle, before he went out of business, sold us his ships. He died amonth later."

He sighed and Bones sighed.

"Your uncle was a great man, Mr. Tibbetts," he said, "one of thegreatest business men in this little city. What a man!"

"Ah!" said Bones, shaking his head mournfully.

He had never met his uncle and had seldom heard of him. Saul Tibbettswas reputedly a miser, and his language was of such violence that theinfant Augustus was invariably hurried to the nursery on such rareoccasions as old Saul paid a family visit. His inheritance had come toBones as in a dream, from the unreality of which he had not yetawakened.

"I must confess, Mr. Tibbetts," said Fred, "that I have often hadqualms of conscience about your uncle, and I have been on the point ofcoming round to see you several times. This morning I said to mybrother, 'Joe,' I said, 'I'm going round to see Tibbetts.' Forgive thefamiliarity, but we talk of firms like the Rothschilds and the Morganswithout any formality."

"Naturally, naturally, naturally," murmured Bones gruffly.

"I said: 'I'll go and see Tibbetts and get it off my chest. If hewants those ships back at the price we paid for them, or even less, heshall have them.' 'Fred,' he said, 'you're too sensitive forbusiness.' 'Joe,' I said, 'my conscience works even in businesshours.'"

A light dawned on Bones and he brightened visibly.

"Ah, yes, my dear old Pole," he said almost cheerily, "I understand.You diddled my dear old uncle – bless his heart – out of money, and youwant to pay it back. Fred" – Bones rose and extended his knucklyhand – "you're a jolly old sportsman, and you can put it there!"

"What I was going to say – " began Fred seriously agitated.

"Not a word. We'll have a bottle on this. What will youhave – ginger-beer or cider?"

Mr. Fred suppressed a shudder with difficulty.

"Wait, wait, Mr. Tibbetts," he begged; "I think I ought to explain. Wedid not, of course, knowingly rob your uncle – "

"No, no, naturally," said Bones, with a facial contortion which passedfor a wink. "Certainly not. We business men never rob anybody. Ali, bring the drinks!"

"We did not consciously rob him," continued Mr. Fred desperately, "butwhat we did do – ah, this is my confession!"

"You borrowed a bit and didn't pay it back. Ah, naughty!" said Bones."Out with the corkscrew, Ali. What shall it be – a cream soda ornon-alcoholic ale?"

Mr. Fred looked long and earnestly at the young man.

"Mr. Tibbetts," he said, and suddenly grasped the hand of Bones, "Ihope we are going to be friends. I like you. That's my peculiarity – Ilike people or I dislike them. Now that I've told you that we boughttwo ships from your uncle for one hundred and forty thousand poundswhen we knew – yes, positively knew – they were worth at least twentythousand pounds more – now I've told you this, I feel happier."

"Worth twenty thousand pounds more?" said Bones thoughtfully.

Providence was working overtime for him, he thought.

"Of anybody's money," said Fred stoutly. "I don't care where you go,my dear chap. Ask Cole – he's the biggest shipping lawyer in thiscity – ask my brother, who, I suppose, is the greatest shippingauthority in the world, or – what's the use of asking 'em? – askyourself. If you're not Saul Tibbetts all over again, if you haven'tthe instinct and the eye and the brain of a shipowner – why, I'm aDutchman! That's what I am – a Dutchman!"

He picked up his hat and his lips were pressed tight – a gesture and agrimace which stood for grim conviction.

"What are they worth to-day?" asked Bones, after a pause.

"What are they worth to-day?" Mr. Fred frowned heavily at the ceiling."Now, what are they worth to-day? I forget how much I've spent on'em – they're in dock now."

Bones tightened his lips, too.

"They're in dock now?" he said. He scratched his nose. "Dear old Fred

Pole," he said, "you're a jolly old soul. By Jove that's not bad!

'Pole' an' 'soul' rhyme – did you notice it?"

Fred had noticed it.

"It's rum," said Bones, shaking his head, "it is rum how things getabout. How did you know, old fellow-citizen, that I was going in forshippin'?"

Mr. Fred Pole did not know that Bones was going in for shipping, but hesmiled.

"There are few things that happen in the City that I don't know," headmitted modestly.

"The Tibbetts Line," said Bones firmly, "will fly a house-flag ofpurple and green diagonally – that is, from corner to corner. Therewill be a yellow anchor in a blue wreath in one corner and a capital Tin a red wreath in the other."

"Original, distinctly original," said Fred in wondering admiration.

"Wherever did you get that idea?"

"I get ideas," confessed Bones, blushing, "some times in the night, sometimes in the day. The fleet" – Bones liked the sound of the wordand repeated it – "the fleet will consist of the Augustus, theSanders– a dear old friend of mine living at Hindhead – thePatricia– another dear old friend of mine living at Hindhead, too – infact, in the same house. To tell you the truth, dear old Fred Pole, she's married to the other ship. And there'll be the Hamilton,another precious old soul, a very, very, very, very dear friend of minewho's comin' home shortly – "

"Well, what shall we say, Mr. Tibbetts?" said Fred, who had an earlyluncheon appointment. "Would you care to buy the two boats at the sameprice we gave your uncle for them?"

Bones rang his bell.

"I'm a business man, dear old Fred," said he soberly. "There's no timelike the present, and I'll fix the matter —now!"

He said "now" with a ferociousness which was intended to emphasize hishard and inflexible business character.

Fred came into the private office of Pole & Pole after lunch that day, and there was in his face a great light and a peace which was almostbeautiful.

But never beamed the face of Fred so radiantly as the countenance ofthe waiting Joe. He lay back in his chair, his cigar pointing to theceiling.

"Well, Fred?" – there was an anthem in his voice.

"Very well, Joe." Fred hung up his unnecessary umbrella.

"I've sold the Fairies!"

Joe said it and Fred said it. They said it together. There was thesame lilt of triumph in each voice, and both smiles vanished at theidentical instant.

"You've sold the Fairies!" they said.

They might have been rehearsing this scene for months, so perfect wasthe chorus.

"Wait a bit, Joe," said Fred; "let's get the hang of this. Iunderstand that you left the matter to me."

"I did; but, Fred, I was so keen on the idea I had that I had to nip inbefore you. Of course, I didn't go to him as Pole & Pole – "

"To him? What him?" asked Fred, breathing hard.

"To What's-his-name – Bones."

Fred took his blue silk handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed hisface.

"Go on, Joe," he said sadly

"I got him just before he went out to lunch. I sent up the United

Merchant Shippers' card – it's our company, anyway. Not a word about

Pole & Pole."

"Oh, no, of course not!" said Fred.

"And, my boy," – this was evidently Joe's greatest achievement, for hedescribed the fact with gusto – "not a word about the names of theships. I just sold him two steamers, so and so tonnage, so and soclassification – "

"For how much?"

Fred was mildly curious. It was the curiosity which led a certainpolitical prisoner to feel the edge of the axe before it beheaded him.

"A hundred and twenty thousand!" cried Joe joyously. "He's starting afleet, he says. He's calling it the Tibbetts Line, and bought a coupleof ships only this morning."

Fred examined the ceiling carefully before he spoke.

"Joe," he said, "was it a firm deal? Did you put pen to paper?"

"You-bet-your-dear-sweet-life," said Joe, scornful at the suggestionthat he had omitted such an indispensable part of the negotiation.

"So did I, Joe," said Fred. "Those two ships he bought were the twoFairies."

There was a dead silence.

"Well," said Joe uneasily, after a while, "we can get a couple ofships – "

"Where, Joe? You admitted yesterday there weren't two boats in theworld on the market."

Another long silence.

"I did it for the best, Fred."

Fred nodded

"Something must be done. We can't sell a man what we haven't got.Joe, couldn't you go and play golf this afternoon whilst I wangle thismatter out?"

Joe nodded and rose solemnly. He took down his umbrella from the pegand his shiny silk hat from another peg, and tiptoed from the room.

From three o'clock to four Mr. Fred Pole sat immersed in thought, andat last, with a big, heavy sigh, he unlocked his safe, took out hischeque-book and pocketed it.

Bones was on the point of departure, after a most satisfactory day'swork, when Fred Pole was announced.

Bones greeted him like unto a brother – caught him by the hand at thevery entrance and, still holding him thus, conducted him to one of hisbeautiful chairs.

"By Jove, dear old Fred," he babbled, "it's good of you, oldfellow – really good of you! Business, my jolly old shipowner, waitsfor no man. Ali, my cheque-book!"

"A moment – just a moment, dear Mr. Bones," begged Fred. "You don'tmind my calling you by the name which is already famous in the City?"

Bones looked dubious.

"Personally, I prefer Tibbetts," said Fred.

"Personally, dear old Fred, so do I," admitted Bones.

"I've come on a curious errand," said Fred in such hollow tones that

Bones started. "The fact is, old man, I'm – "

He hung his head, and Bones laid a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.

"Anybody is liable to get that way, my jolly old roysterer," he said."Speakin' for myself, drink has no effect upon me – due to my jolly oldnerves of iron an' all that sort of thing."

"I'm ashamed of myself," said Fred.

"Nothing to be ashamed of, my poor old toper," said Bones honestly inerror. "Why, I remember once – "

"As a business man, Mr. Tibbetts," said Fred bravely, "can you forgivesentiment?"

"Sentiment! Why, you silly old josser, I'm all sentiment, dear oldthing! Why, I simply cry myself to sleep over dear old CharlesWhat's-his-name's books!"

"It's sentiment," said Fred brokenly. "I just can't – I simply can'tpart with those two ships I sold you."

"Hey?" said Bones.

"They were your uncle's, but they have an association for me and mybrother which it would be – er – profane to mention. Mr. Tibbetts, letus cry off our bargain."

Bones sniffed and rubbed his nose.

"Business, dear old Fred," he said gently. "Bear up an' play the man,as dear old Francis Drake said when they stopped him playin' cricket.Business, old friend. I'd like to oblige you, but – "

He shook his head rapidly

Mr. Fred slowly produced his cheque-book and laid it on the desk withthe sigh of one who was about to indite his last wishes.

"You shall not be the loser," he said, with a catch in his voice, forhe was genuinely grieved. "I must pay for my weakness. What is fivehundred pounds?"

"What is a thousand, if it comes to that, Freddy?" said Bones."Gracious goodness, I shall be awfully disappointed if you back out – Ishall be so vexed, really."

"Seven hundred and fifty?" asked Fred, with pleading in his eye.

"Make it a thousand, dear old Fred," said Bones; "I can't add upfifties."

So "in consideration" (as Fred wrote rapidly and Bones signed morerapidly) "of the sum of one thousand pounds (say £1,000), the contractas between &c., &c.," was cancelled, and Fred became again thepractical man of affairs.

"Dear old Fred," said Bones, folding the cheque and sticking it in hispocket, "I'm goin' to own up – frankness is a vice with me – that I don'tunderstand much about the shippin' business. But tell me, my jolly oldmerchant, why do fellers sell you ships in the mornin' an' buy 'em backin the afternoon?"

"Business, Mr. Tibbetts," said Fred, smiling, "just big business."

Bones sucked an inky finger.

"Dinky business for me, dear old thing," he said. "I've got a thousandfrom you an' a thousand from the other Johnny who sold me two ships.Bless my life an' soul – "

"The other fellow," said Fred faintly – "a fellow from the United

Merchant Shippers?"

"That was the dear lad," said Bones.

"And has he cried off his bargain, too?"

"Positively!" said Bones. "A very, very nice, fellow. He told me Icould call him Joe – jolly old Joe!"

"Jolly old Joe!" repeated Fred mechanically, as he left the office, andall the way home he was saying "Jolly old Joe!"