E. Phillips Oppenheim

“ Now he's going to talk to me to-morrow about a land scheme. What's it all mean? Am I to pretend to be interested in that, or crab it? And what is the damned scheme? And on what date can I take my seat in the train?”
“For the day on which you purchase the option Mr. de Peyser will try to sell you for ten thousand pounds.”
“Option!” Mr. Hopps gasped. “Ten thousand pounds! I don't want to buy an option on anything.”
“As it happens, you are not required to on your own account,” Cardinge assured him. “You are to buy this on behalf of Madame and me.” ”

“ Madame nodded.
“I believe I remember that you were interested in some commercial pursuit,” she acknowledged. “Now tell me this, if you have lost your taste for adventure, why were you so prompt in answering my summons?”
Mr. Hopps leaned forward in his chair. He spoke impressively.
“I want my quittance,” he admitted. “You know what I mean. The little document you made me give you—sort of confession of the one time in my life I made an ass of myself.”
“Just so,” Madame murmured. “You have been able to keep your secret?”
“Absolutely,” Hopps assured her. “The thing is buried now—finished.” ”

“ There's a cool million francs' profit to the man who puts up the money and exercise the option. Fifty thousand pounds going for ten thousand. You don't often have a chance like that.”
Mr. Hopps looked doubtful.
“Sorry,” he said. “I never was particularly fond of options. This one may be all right, of course, but it is a gamble. I shouldn't know what to do with it.”
“You could sell it again to any one who knew the property,” the other insisted.
Mr. Hopps took out his check-book.
“I'll give you the twenty mille notes I have and a check for six thousand pounds,” he declared, “not a penny more.” ”

“ Madame said softly, “that we may take your eagerness as indicating that the desire for adventure still stirs in your blood.”
“Nothing of the sort,” Mr. Hopps replied, a little testily. “Circumstances are entirely changed with me. I have, to a limited extent, prospered in a mercantile career. I have become a partner in the great house of Salteley.”
He stared hard at Cardinge, who felt that he was expected to say something.
“Most creditable,” he murmured.
“This house you speak of, are they bankers?” Madame inquired.
“Leather merchants,” Mr. Hopps declared. “The best-known firm in the world. ”

“ Every now and then he lets himself go. I believe he's lost a great deal. If you happen to stroll by just now he might feel differently about that option. You never can tell anything. Leave it to him to mention it.”
“You needn't teach me anything about business methods,” Mr. Hopps replied, starting for the door with alacrity. “I'll handle him all right if he's a seller.”
Mr. Hopps reached the Sporting Club, left his coat and hat, strolled through the Rooms in leisurely fashion, and turned into the bar. De Peyser was sitting there alone, and it was obvious that something was wrong. ”

“ Madame glanced at him scornfully.
“You were always the most pusillanimous of my helpers,” she scoffed. “You seem now to have become perfectly flabby. I fear that your outlook upon life has been spoilt by the too easy acquisition of money.” ”

“ I'm chairman of Salteley's, Limited, an accepted candidate for Parliament, on the board of two hospitals, and churchwarden at St. Jude's, Sydenham.”
“Dear me,” Cardinge murmured, “you have indeed made a success of life.”
“I married a daughter of Sir John Fosten,” Mr. Hopps went on impressively. “Fosten, the wholesale carpet manufacturers in Kidderminster and Queen Victoria Street. I've settled down to a steady and reputable life. You couldn't get me to touch anything in the nature of what we used to call an adventure if you offered me a million pounds. ”

“ Why, the very thought of some of the risks we used to run makes me hot.”
MR. HOPPS did indeed dab his forehead with his pocket-handkerchief and found it wet. He looked from one to the other of his two companions and became dimly conscious of a want of sympathy. Surely they must understand his position.
Madame sighed regretfully.
“Then I suppose there is nothing more to be said,” she remarked.
“If you are really in such a terrible hurry,” Cardinge suggested, “you might catch the night train at Nice.”
“It would be an immense relief to me,” Mr. Hopps confessed. ”

“ A man here—quite a wealthy man in his way—absolutely lost his head at baccarat one night. He wasn't broke exactly, but he was in a devil of a mess because he had partners who would have gone crazy if they thought that he had been gambling to that extent. He came round to see me—they most of them know that if there's anything really good going, I can put my hand on the money. But, to cut a long story short, I bought the option from him, gave him a check and he was able to square himself. ”

“ She simply puts me onto a man who doesn't want to sell what she wants to buy. I can't do more than I have done.”
“Keep your eye on de Peyser,” Cardinge advised once more. “It's the only hope, unless Madame thinks of some other scheme. If you have to spring another thousand on the land and the option, that will be better than letting it go.”
“The question of title doesn't arise, I suppose?” Mr. Hopps asked. “You've been into all that?”
“Naturally,” Cardinge assured him. “We know all about the deed, and we want it.”
Mr. Hopps. who did not gamble, spent a dull afternoon. ”