So in the present case, I think we really ought to send in a report that will satisfy old Hepburn, and keep the boy solid with his employers.

I shouldn't know how to word it myself, but if you, with your expert knowledge of the subject, will make it out, of course after taking a look at the mine, I'll see that you don't lose anything by your kindness." "All right," replied Thorpe, who was quite sharp enough to comprehend the other's meaning.

"I'll do it." So the two conspirators drove to the picturesque fishing village of Portugal Cove, where they hired a boat to carry them across to Bell Island.

There they paid a hasty visit to the mine, which Mr.Gregg plausibly belittled and undervalued, until Thorpe really began to consider it a greatly overestimated piece of property, and this idea he embodied in a report that he wrote out that very evening.
"I'm glad to see that you think as I do concerning the real worthlessness of Bell Island," remarked Mr.Gregg, gravely, as he glanced over the paper, "and the man who would have anything to do with it after reading this must be a greater fool than I take old Hepburn to be." On the following day a type-written copy of Thorpe's report was made, signed "C.

G.," and forwarded by mail to the president of the Gotham Trust and Investment Company.