Those directors were undoubtedly rascals,
but was he not a rascal himself? What about his own shares?
"Maybe there's something we don't understand about it," he ventured to
Cassidy.
"I know th' kind well," persisted Cassidy. "Th' idle rich! Small use
have they f'r th' wur-r-r-kin' man! Souls no wider than th' black av y'r
nail!"
"Might have had good reasons," said Bean, cautiously.
"Millions av thim," assented Cassidy with a pointed cynicism. "An' me
own father dyin' twinty-three years ago fr'm ixposure contracted in
County Mayo!"
Bean returned the paper to its owner and went slowly in to Ram-tah. One
of the idle rich! Well, that is what kings mostly were, if you came down
to it. At least they had to be rich to buy all those palaces. But not
necessarily idle. The renewed Ram-tah would not be idle. It was not
idleness to own a major-league club.
For the first time in their intercourse he felt that he faced the dead
king almost as an equal. He was confronted by problems of
administration, as Ram-tah must often have been. He must think.
If the flapper quite madly brought about an immediate marriage they
would, for their honeymoon, follow the home club on its Western trip,
and the groom would not be idle. He would be "looking over the ground."
Then he would buy one of the clubs. If he proved to be not rich enough
for that, not quite as rich as one of the idle rich, he would buy stock
and become a director.
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