And that done, he turned back and took a
chair, close to his visitor.
"Safe there, Mrs. Mallathorpe," he said with a glance that was both
reassuring and cunning. "But only for the night. I keep a few securities
of my own at one of the banks in the town--never mind which--and that
will shall be deposited with them tomorrow morning."
Mrs. Mallathorpe shook her head.
"No!" she said. "Because--you'll come to terms with me."
Pratt shook his head, too, and he laughed.
"Of course I shall come to terms with you," he answered. "But they'll be
my terms--and they don't include any giving up of that document. That's
flat, Mrs. Mallathorpe!"
"Not if I make it worth your while?" she asked. "Listen!--you don't know
what ready money I can command. Ready money, I tell you--cash down, on
the spot!"
"I've a pretty good notion," responded Pratt. "It's generally understood
in the town that your son's a mere figure-head, and that you're the real
boss of the whole show. I know that you're at the mill four times a
week, and that the managers are under your thumb. I know that you manage
everything connected with the estate. So, of course, I know you've lots
of ready money at your disposal."
"And I know that you don't earn more than four or five pounds a week, at
the outside," said Mrs. Mallathorpe quietly. "Come, now--just think what
a nice, convenient thing it would be to a young man of your age to
have--a capital.
Pages:
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94