Achmed Abdullah

“ Graham had left, and Houghton had looked after him, shaking his head wistfully.
"The poor young fish!" he had thought, as he rang for his bookkeeper to deposit the draft at the bank. "The poor canned sardine! The poor lemon-sucker! Well, youth must learn, and age must teach him, and it's right that teacher should be paid!"
But Graham, as he walked down Riverside Avenue, did not feel poor at all. On the contrary, he felt rich. He imagined that he was holding Big Business by the tail; and, by Jupiter, he said to himself, he had jolly well spoilt Ritchie Macdonald's plans. ”

“ Last night he had received the draft from his father, and just a few minutes ago he had made it over to Houghton senior in payment for a majority interest in the shares of the Western Crown.
The old financier had suppressed an emotional tear at sight of the draft. He had shaken Graham warmly by the hand.
"Well done, my young friend!" he exclaimed, "exceedingly well done! I turn over the control of this company to you with a certain amount of regret. But no—no—I know that you will follow in my footsteps. Rectitude, honesty, the finer, nobler business ethics—let these be your motto! ”

“ It's quite useless to marry a man who intends to commit suicide. Of course, you can pay off those men and have yourself released from the suicide compact. But then I'd have no respect for a man who lets himself be blackmailed. ”