How We Got Up the Glenmutchkin Railway and how We Got out of It
by Ayton, W. E.“A time bargain?” quavered the coffin-maker.
“No. Money down, and scrip handed over.”
“I—I can’t. The fact is, my dear friend, I have sold all my stock already!”
“Then permit me to ask, Mr. Sawley, what possible objection you can have to the present aspect of affairs? You do not surely suppose that we are going to issue new shares and bring down the market, simply because you have realised at a handsome premium?”
“A handsome premium! O Lord!” moaned Sawley.
“Why, what did you get for them?”
“Four, three, and two and a half.”
“A very considerable profit indeed,” said I; “and you ought to be abundantly thankful. We shall talk this matter over at another time, Mr. Sawley, but just now I must beg you to excuse me. I have a particular engagement this morning with my broker-rather a heavy transaction to settle—and so—”
“It’s no use beating about the bush, any longer,” said Mr. Sawley in an excited tone, at the same time dashing down his crape-covered castor on the floor. “Did you ever see a ruined man with a large family? Look at me, Mr. Dunshunner—I’m one, and you’ve done it!”
“Mr. Sawley! are you in your senses?”
“That depends on circumstances. Haven’t you been buying stock lately?”
“I am glad to say I have-two thousand Glenmutchkins, I think, and this is the day of delivery.”
“Well, then—can’t you see how the matter stands? It was I who sold them!”
“Well!”
“Mother of Moses, sir! don’t you see I’m ruined?”
“By no means—but you must not swear. I pay over the money for your scrip, and you pocket a premium. It seems to me a very simple transaction.”
“But I tell you I haven’t got the scrip!” cried Sawley, gnashing his teeth, whilst the cold beads of perspiration gathered largely on his brow.