the flotation."

He held out a paper between Sir Francis and Olive, and Sir Francis took
it and read it over with an air of concentrated, conscious wisdom--the
air he carefully donned at Board meetings, together with a pair of
gold-rimmed pince-nez.

"Clifford will be Chairman," explained Larssen. "You and Lord St Aubyn
and Carleton-Wingate are the men I want for the other Directors. I, as
vendor, join the Board after allotment."

"Where's the point about shares for me?" asked Sir Francis, reading on.

"That doesn't appear in the prospectus, of course. A private arrangement
between Clifford and myself. Here's the memorandum."

This he handed to Olive, who nodded her head with pleasure as she read
it through, her father looking over her shoulder.

"Keep it," said Larssen as she made to hand it back. "Keep it till your
husband returns from Canada."

"When did he say he will be back?"

"It's very uncertain. He doesn't know himself. It's a delicate matter to
handle--very delicate. That's why he went himself to Montreal."

"He wired me that he's travelling under an assumed name."

"Very prudent," commented Larssen.

"I don't quite like it," murmured Sir Francis. "Not the right thing, you
know."

Larssen did not answer, but Olive rejoined sharply: "What does it matter
if it helps to get the flotation off and make money?"

"Well, perhaps so. Still----"

"Can you fix up St Aubyn and Carleton-Wingate?" asked Larssen.
"Quickly?"

"Yes, I expect so. But has Clifford approved this scheme?"

"Of course."

"Have you it with you?"

"Have I what?"

"I mean the agreement Clifford signed."

Sir Francis, without knowing it, had stumbled upon the crucial weakness
of Larssen's daring scheme. But it would have taken a far shrewder man
than he to realize the vital import of the point from Larssen's easy,
almost causal answer:

"There's no signed agreement. We agreed the scheme in principle at the
interview in Clifford's office, and he left details to you and me. His
last words were: 'Tell my father-in-law to go ahead as quickly as he can
manage.'"

"But when I put this before St Aubyn and Carleton-Wingate, they'll be
expecting me to--I mean to say, isn't it deuced irregular, you know?"

Larssen did not answer this for a moment. He had a keen appreciation of
the value of silence in business negotiations. He poured himself out
another glass of cognac and drank it off. His attitude conveyed a
contempt for Letchmer