"Well, well," said Mr. Rae, "tell the Farquhars about it."
"Ay, Sir, I will that," said Davie, as he reluctantly took himself off
with his scuttle and besom.
The Captain was bursting with fretful impatience. "Impudent old rascal!"
he exclaimed. "Why don't you dismiss him?"
"Dismiss him!" echoed Mr. Rae in consternation. "Dismiss him!" he
repeated, as if pondering an entirely new idea. "I doubt if Davie would
consider that. But now let us to work." He set two arm-chairs before the
fire, and placed a box of cigars by the Captain's elbow. "I have seen
Sheratt," he began. "I'm quite clear it is not in his hands."
"In whose then?" burst forth the Captain.
Mr. Rae lit his cigar carefully. "The whole matter, I believe, lies now
with the Chairman of the Board of Directors, Sir Archibald Brodie."
"Brodie!" cried the Captain. "I know him. Pompous little fool!"
"Fool, Captain Cameron! Make no mistake. Sir Archibald may have--ah--the
self-importance of a self-made man somewhat under the average height,
but he is, without doubt, the best financier that stands at this moment
in Scotland, and during the last fifteen years he has brought up the
Bank of Scotland to its present position. Fool! He's anything but that.
But he has his weak spots--I wish I knew what they were!--and these we
must seek to find out.
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