sentence
into his former state of sombre watching.

"There's a very fair profit to be made, you see," Mr. Dane Montague
pointed out, "on the sale of the land and houses, without going more
closely into the figures, but we want to be dead straight with you,
Mr. Pratt. There should be an additional profit on the electric light
and water which we supply from the Cropstone Wood Company."

"I see," Jacob remarked thoughtfully. "When they've bought their land,
and the houses are beginning to materialise, you can charge them what
you like for the water and lighting."

Mr. Dane Montague beamed, with the air of one whose faith in the
shrewdness of a fellow creature has been justified.

"You've hit the bull's-eye," he declared. "We've got the cost of
service all worked out, and, added to the price we'll have to pay for
the Company, it don't come to more than forty thousand pounds. Then we
shall have the whole thing in our own hands and can charge what we
damned well please."

Jacob leaned back in his chair and surveyed his two visitors. There
was a gleam in his eyes which might have meant admiration--or
possibly something else. Neither of the two men noticed it.

"It's quite a scheme," he remarked.

"It's a gold mine," Mr. Dane Montague pronounced enthusiastically.

"There'll be pickings every way," the builder murmured thickly, with a
covetous gleam in his eyes.

Jacob glanced at his watch.

"I'll see the property this afternoon," he promised. "If your
statement is borne out by the facts, I am willing to come in with you.
How much money do you require from me?"

Mr. Dane Montague coughed. Mr. Littleham looked more stolid than ever.

"The fact of the matter is," the former explained, "Mr. Littleham here
is tied up with so much land that he has very little of the ready to
spare at present. Personally, I have been so fortunate lately in the
City, had so many good things brought to me by my pals, that I am
pretty well up to the neck until things begin to move."

Jacob studied the speaker thoughtfully. He was an observant person,
and he noticed that Mr. Dane Montague's glossy hat showed signs of
frequent ironing, that there were traces of ink at the seams of his
black coat, and the suggestion of a patch on the patent boot which
lingered modestly under his chair.

"You mean, I suppose, that you wish me to provide the whole of the
capital?" Jacob remarked.

Mr. Dane Montague coughed.

"You happen to be the only on