"Joe," said the senior Mr. Pole, in a voice that came from his

varnished boots, "we've got to do something with Fairies."

"Curse this War!" said Joe in cold-blooded even tones. "Curse the

Kaiser! A weak-kneed devil who might at least have stuck to it for

another month! Curse him for making America build ships, curse him

for----"

"Joe," said the stout young man on the other side of the table, shaking

his head sadly, "it is no use cursing, Joe. We knew that they were

building ships, but the business looked good to me. If Turkey hadn't

turned up her toes and released all that shipping----"

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"Curse Turkey!" said the other, with great calmness. "Curse the Sultan

and Enver and Taalat, curse Bulgaria and Ferdinand----"

"Put in one for the Bolsheviks, Joe," said his brother urgently, "and I

reckon that gets the lot in trouble. Don't start on Austria, or we'll

find ourselves cursing the Jugo-Slavs."

He sighed deeply, pursed his lips, and looked at his writing-pad

intently.

Joe and Fred Pole had many faults, which they freely admitted, such as

their generosity, their reckless kindness of heart, their willingness

to do their worst enemies a good turn, and the like. They had others

which they never admitted, but which were none the less patent to their

prejudiced contemporaries.

But they had virtues which were admirable. They were, for example,

absolutely loyal to one another, and were constant in their mutual

admiration and help. If Joe made a bad deal, Fred never rested until

he had balanced things against the beneficiary. If Fred in a weak

moment paid a higher price to the vendor of a property than he, as

promoter, could afford, it was Joe who took the smug vendor out to

dinner and, by persuasion, argument, and the frank expression of his

liking for the unfortunate man, tore away a portion of his ill-gotten

gains.

"I suppose," said Joe, concluding his minatory exercises, and reaching

for a cigar from the silver box which stood on the table midway between

the two, "I suppose we couldn't hold Billing to his contract. Have you

seen Cole about it, Fred?"

The other nodded slowly.

"Cole says that there is no contract. Billing offered to buy the

ships, and meant to buy them, undoubtedly; but Cole says that if you

took Billing into court, the judge would chuck his pen in your eye."

"Would he now?" said Joe, one of whose faults was that he took things

literally. "But perhaps if you took Billing out to dinner, Fred----"

"He's a vegetarian, Joe"--he reached in his turn for a cigar, snipped

the end and lit it--"and he's deaf. No, we've got to find a sucker,

Joe. I can sell the Fairy May and the Fairy Belle: they're little

boats, and are worth money in the open market. I can sell the wharfage

and offices and the goodwill----"




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