He was feeling now that he knew how to be a
director; that his experience with the express company had qualified
him. He wondered how rich he would prove to be. Maybe he would have as
much as thirty thousand dollars.
And he was a puzzle to Breede. He looked knowingly at Ram-tah when he
remembered this. Ram-tah had probably puzzled people, too.
* * * * *
He went to the office in the morning still wondering how rich he might
be. The newspaper he read did not enlighten him, though it spoke frankly
of "Federal Express Scandal." If the thing was _very_ scandalous,
perhaps he had made a lot of money. But he could not be sure of this. It
might be merely "newspaper vituperation," which was something he knew to
be not uncommon. The paper had declared that those directors had juggled
a twenty-million dollar surplus for years, lending it to one another at
a low rate of interest, until, alarmed by clamouring stockholders, they
had declared this enormous dividend, taking first, however, the
precaution to buy for a low price all the stock they could. But the
newspaper did not say how rich any one would be that had a whole lot of
margins on that stock at Kennedy & Balch's. Maybe you had to hire a
lawyer in those cases.
Entering the office, he was rudely shocked by Tully.
"Good-morning, Mr. Bean!" said Tully distinctly.
"Good-morning!" returned Bean, stunned by Tully's "Mr.
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