markets of Spain and
Portugal, of the West Indies and the South American Republics.

Sir Archibald was alone in his cozy office. The day was raw and wet.
There was a blazing fire in the grate--an agreeable bit of warmth and
brightness to contrast with the rain beating on the window-panes.

A pale little clerk put his head in at the door. "Beg pardon, sir," he
jerked. "Master Archie, sir."

"Master Archie!" Sir Archibald exclaimed.

Archie entered.

"What's this?" said Sir Archibald, in amazement. "Back from Ruddy
Cove?"

"On business," Archie replied.

Sir Archibald laughed pleasantly.

"Don't make fun of me, father," said Archie. "I'm in dead earnest."

"How much is it, son?" This was an ancient joke between the two. Both
laughed.

"You'd be surprised if you knew," the boy returned. "But look here,
father! please don't take it in that way. I'm really in earnest."

"It's money, son," Sir Archibald insisted. "I know it is."

"Yes," said Archie, with a grave frown; "it _is_ money. It's a good
deal of money. It's so much money, dad, that you'll sit up when you
hear about it."

Sir Archibald looked sharply into his son's grave eyes. "Ahem!" he
coughed. "Money," he mused, "and a good deal of it. What's the
trouble, son?"

"No trouble, father," said Archie; "just a ripping good chance for fun
and profit."

Sir Archibald moved to the chair behind a broad flat-top desk by the
window. This was the queer little throne from which all business
problems were viewed. It was from the shabby old chair--with a broad
window behind--that all business judgments were delivered. Did an
outport merchant want credit in any large way, it was from the
opposite chair--with the light falling full in his face through the
broad window--that he put the case to Sir Archibald. Archie sat down
in that chair and leaned over the desk. Sir Archibald stretched his
legs, put his hands deep in his pockets, let his chin fall on his
breast and stared searchingly into his son's face. The rain was driven
noisily against the windows; the fire crackled and glowed. As between
the two at the desk there was a momentary silence.

"Well?" said Sir Archibald, shortly.

"I want to go trading," Archie replied.

Sir Archibald lifted his eyebrows--then pursed his lips. The matter
of credit was evidently to be proposed to him. It was to be put,
too, it seemed, in a business way. Very well: Sir Archibald would
deal with the question in a business way.