He
trembled a little as he did it.
"I'll have the insurance on her placed this afternoon," MacCandless
suggested as he handed Matt his copy of the sale contract; whereat the
latter came to life with galvanic suddenness.
"Oh, no, you'll not, Mr. MacCandless," he suggested smilingly. "I'll
place that insurance myself. My company has to pay for it, so I'll
act as agent and collect my little old ten per cent. commission. But,
passing that, do you want to know the latest--the very latest news?"
"I don't mind," MacCandless replied.
"Well, there's going to be a devil of big war in Europe and I wouldn't
take four hundred thousand dollars for the Narcissus this minute. May
I use your telephone? Thanks!" He called up his office. "Is there a
telegram there for me?" he queried, and on being answered in the
affirmative he directed his stenographer to read it to him. He turned
to MacCandless.
"Mr. Terence Reardon will have entire charge of the work of retubing
those condensers, and so on," he explained. "I'll give him a letter
to you, which will be his authority to superintend the job. I'm going
to New York tonight, but I think I'll be back in time to accept the
vessel when she's ready for commission." He looked at his watch. It
was just twelve-thirty o'clock.
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