Swirling Waters | Page 4

because the English and Canadian public are
prejudiced against 'Yankee propositions.' You yourself couldn't float it
in England. On the other hand, I'm Canadian-born, and my name
carries weight both in England and in Canada."
"With the public," added Larssen, and there was a subtle emphasis on
the word "public," which carried a world of hidden meaning. Matheson
had been associated with other schemes which had a bad odour in the
nostrils of City men.
"With the public who provide the capital," answered the financier, and
his emphasis was on the word "capital." He continued. "With myself
and Sir Francis Letchmere and a few titled dummies on the
Board--which is what you want from me--the public will tumble over
one another to take up stock."
"Agreed."
"The capitalization you propose is £5,000,000 in Ordinary £1 Shares,
which the public will mostly take up. Also £200,000 in Deferred Shares
of the nominal value of one shilling each, which are to be allotted to
yourself as vendor. That gives you four million votes out of a total of
nine million, and for practical purposes means control."
"The Deferred Shares are not to get a cent of dividend until a fifteen per
cent. dividend is paid on the Ordinary Shares. That's the squarest deal

for the public that ever was," retorted Larssen.
"But you hold control."
Both men knew the tremendous import of that word. The fortunes of
the world's financial giants have all been built up on "control."
Dwarfing "capital" and "credit" it stands--that word "control." If the
wild gamble of the Hudson Bay scheme were to rush through to
commercial success--if the limitless wheat-lands of Canada were to
pour their mighty torrent of life into Europe through the channel of
Hudson Bay--it would be Lars Larssen who would hold the key of the
sluice-gate. Directly, he would be master of the wheat of Canada.
Indirectly, he could turn his master-position to financial gain in scores
of ways. The £200,000 to be allotted him as vendor was a bagatelle; but
to hold four million votes out of nine million was to control an empire.
He replied evenly: "I keep control on any proposition I touch. That's
creed with me. Creed."
"We split on that," answered Matheson.
"You want control for yourself?"
"No."
"Then what is it you do want?"
"I want half the Deferred Shares in the hands of Lord ----." He named a
Canadian statesman and empire-builder whose integrity was beyond all
suspicion. "I want him to hold them as trustee for the ordinary
shareholders. He will consent if I ask him."
"No doubt he will!" commented Larssen ironically. He drew up his
chair closer to the other man. There was a dangerous gleam in his eye
as he said: "Now see here. All the points you've put up were known to
you months ago. What's happened to make you switch at the last
moment?"

He had put his finger on the very core of the matter, but Matheson met
his searching gaze without flinching. "What's happened is an entirely
private matter. I've reasons for not wishing to be associated with your
scheme unless you agree to half the Deferred Shares being held by
Lord ---- as trustee. These reasons of mine have only arisen during the
last few weeks. Circumstances are different with me from what they
were when you first broached the plan. If you don't care to agree to my
suggestion, I call the deal off. As regards the expenses you've incurred,
I'll go halves."
For comment, the shipowner flicked thumb and forefinger together.
"No, I'll do more," pursued Matheson. "I'll make you a more than fair
offer--shoulder the whole expenses myself."
Larssen ignored the offer. "I went into the preliminaries of the scheme
on the understanding that we were to pull together."
"I know."
"It means big money for you--enough to retire on."
"I know."
"Then what the hell's the reason for this sudden attack of scruples?"
For a moment Matheson's eyes blazed black anger, but the anger died
out of them and the tired look of the platform of the Gare de Lyon took
its place. "You wouldn't understand," he answered. "The whirlpool."
"What's that?"
"It would be useless to explain. I have private reasons.... I've made you
a thoroughly fair offer, and I don't think there's anything more to be
said." Matheson rose and walked to the window, pulling up the blind
and gazing out on the sombre splendour of the big banking houses of
the Rue Laffitte and the Rue Pillet-Will.
Larssen looked at the silhouette of his antagonist with a tense set of his

jaws. Many plans were revolving in his mind. Moralists might have
labelled them "blackmail," but Lars Larssen was utterly free from
scruples where his own interests were concerned. Honesty with him
was