When the laugh and smile had run their course,
he endeavored to come to the point.
"Mr. Pulcifer," he said, "I--if you are not too greatly occupied I
should like to ask--ah--a business question. Ah--may I?"
He most assuredly could. In fact, he was urged to ask it then and there.
"Never too busy to talk business, a feller usually ain't; eh, Perfessor?
Haw, haw! I'd say he wan't, eh? Set down, set down and ease your mind.
What's the business question? Let 'er go."
Mr. Bangs let her go to the extent of stammering a request to be given
his companion's candid opinion concerning the shares of the Wellmouth
Development Company. He was--ah--somewhat interested in them, so he
said.
Raish leaned back in his chair and scrutinized the questioner. He shot
at least five deep-drawn puffs of smoke into the already murky air of
the little office before replying.
"Humph!" he grunted, after the fifth puff. "Wellmouth Development
Company, eh? You're interested in that, are you?"
"Why--ah--yes, yes. To a certain extent, yes, Mr. Pulcifer."
"Humph! What d'you mean, interested? How interested?"
"Why, as--ah--as an investment, you know. As something to put one's
money into."
"Humph! Was you thinkin' of puttin' some of yours into it?"
"Why, not exactly. But, you see, a friend of mine--But, really, I think
I shouldn't give any further particulars at the present time.
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