Finger Posts on the Way of Life | Page 8

I can induce you to let Mrs. Lloyd remain in ignorance of your benevolent intentions, and mind your own concerns, like a sensible man."
"Good morning," said Mr. Smith.
"Good morning," replied Jones; "in a week or two I shall expect to hear your report on this widow-hunting expedition."
"It will pay, I reckon," said Mr. Smith, as he passed from the store.
"Pay," muttered Jones, a sneer now curling his lip, "he'll have to pay, and roundly, too, unless more fortunate than he deserves to be."
A little while after the departure of Mr. Smith, a sallow, sharp-featured man, with a restless eye, entered the store of Mr. Jones.
"Ah, Perkins!" said the latter, familiarly, "any thing afloat to-day?"
"Well, yes, there is; I know of one operation that is worth looking at."
"Will it pay, friend Perkins? That's the touchstone with me. Show me any thing that will pay, and I'm your man for a trade."
"I can get you fifty shares of Riverland Railroad stock, at eighty-two!"
"Can you?" The face of Jones brightened.
"I can."
"All right. I'll take it."
"Give me your note at sixty days, and I'll have the shares transferred at once."
In five minutes from the time Perkins entered the store of Mr. Jones, he left with the merchant's note for over four thousand dollars in his hand. The shares in the Riverland Railroad had been steadily advancing for some months, and Mr. Jones entertained not the shadow of a doubt that in a very short period they would be up to par. He had already purchased freely, and at prices beyond eighty-two dollars. The speculation he regarded as entirely safe, and one that would "pay" handsomely.
"I think that will pay a good deal better than hunting up the poor widows of insolvent merchants," said Mr. Jones to himself, as he walked the length of his store once or twice, rubbing his hands every now and then with irrepressible glee. "If I'd been led off by Smith on that fool's errand, just see what I would have lost. Operations like that don't go a begging long. But this gentleman knows in what quarter his interest lies."
Not long after the departure of Perkins, a small wholesale dealer, named Armor, came into the store of Mr. Jones.
"I have several lots that I am anxious to close out this morning," said he. "Can I do any thing here?"
"What have you?" asked Mr. Jones.
"Ten boxes of tobacco, fifty prime hams, ten boxes Havana cigars, some rice, &c."
Now, these were the very articles Mr. Jones wanted, and which he would have to purchase in a day or two. But he affected indifference as he inquired the price. The current market rates were mentioned.
"No temptation," said Mr. Jones, coldly.
"They are prime articles, all; none better to be had," said the dealer.
"If I was in immediate want of them, I could give you an order; but"----
"Will you make me an offer?" inquired Armor, somewhat earnestly. "I have a good deal of money to raise to-day, and for cash will sell at a bargain."
Mr. Jones mused for some time. He was not certain whether, in making or requiring an offer, he would get the best bargain out of his needy customer. At last he said--
"Put down your prices to the very lowest figure, and I can tell you at a word whether I will close out these lots for you. As I said before, I have a good stock of each on hand."
For what a small gain will some men sacrifice truth and honour!
The dealer had notes in bank that must be lifted, and he saw no way of obtaining all the funds he needed, except through forced sales, at a depression on the market prices. So, to make certain of an operation, he named, accordingly, low rates--considerably below cost.
Mr. Jones, who was very cunning, and very shrewd, accepted the prices on two or three articles, but demurred to the rest, and these the most important of the whole. Finally, an operation was made, in which he was a gainer, in the purchase of goods for which he had almost immediate sale, of over two hundred dollars, while the needy merchant was a loser by just that sum.
"That paid!" was the self-congratulatory ejaculation of Mr. Jones, "and handsomely, too. I should like to do it over again, about a dozen times before night. Rather better than widow speculations--ha! ha!"
We shall see. On leaving the store of his neighbour, Mr. Smith went to the hotel at which he understood Mrs. Lloyd had taken lodgings, and made inquiry for her. A lady in deep mourning, accompanied by two daughters, one a lovely girl, not over twenty years of age, and the other about twelve, soon entered the parlour.
"Mrs. Lloyd, I believe," said Mr. Smith.
The lady bowed. As soon as all parties were seated, the gentleman said--
"My