friends, aren't they? What about Miss
Bultiwell?"

Jacob knitted his brows.

"I don't fancy the company will be able to charge whatever they like,"
he argued. "There are some restrictions--"

"They've got an old charter which has another fourteen years to run,"
Dauncey interrupted. "As they've made a loss ever since they've been
in business, there's nothing to prevent their recouping themselves
now, on paper, by charging practically whatever they like. I warned
you not to have anything to do with those fellows."

"I was an ass," Jacob admitted.

The critical note vanished from Dauncey's tone. He laid his hand upon
his friend's shoulder.

"It wasn't your fault, Jacob," he said. "We shall prove that you were
never interested in the option and knew nothing about it. As for Miss
Bultiwell, it won't hurt you if you have to take that bit of land off
her hands."

Jacob shook his friend's hand.

"Thank you, Dick."

"And I should tackle those fellows at once, if I were you," Dauncey
added. "No good letting the matter drag on. Ask them what they're
going to charge. Say that one or two of the tenants have been making
enquiries."

"I will."

"It's a dirty business all round," Dauncey declared. "They made you
advance the whole of the money to buy the land, and they saved their
bit for the waterworks and lighting company. It's as plain as a
pikestaff why they didn't let you in on that. They knew perfectly well
that you'd never be a party to such a low-down scheme as they had in
view."

Jacob swung round to his desk with an air of determination.

"I'll tackle them within the next few days," he promised.

CHAPTER IX

The opportunity for an explanation between Jacob and his fellow
speculators speedily presented itself. Amongst his letters, on the
following morning, Jacob found a somewhat pompous little note from
Dane Montague, inviting him to lunch at the Milan at half-past one.
Littleham, supremely uncomfortable in a new suit of clothes, was the
other guest, and champagne was served before the three men had well
taken their places.

"A celebration, eh?" Jacob observed, as he bowed to his two hosts.

Mr. Montague cleared his throat.

"Our meeting might almost be considered in that light," he admitted.
"Yesterday afternoon we sold the last plot of land on the Cropstone
Wood Estate."

"Capital!" Jacob exclaimed. "Full price?"

"Sixpence a yard over."

Jacob nodded approval.

"By the bye," he said,