“I can see,” stated Norton Granger, with a slow smile, “that you are seeking advice on questions other than those which are purely legal, Mr. Farrow.”
“Why not?” Farrow chuckled. “I am willing to pay for all services rendered. I’ve figured it this way, Mr. Granger. In a town like Southfield, any prominent man should know a lot about conditions. Go to the right man — get his opinion.”
“That is sound judgment.”
“Who is the right man?” Farrow’s question was canny. “I decided that I wanted a lawyer. Business men, realtors, fellows like that — they all have something to sell to a stranger. A lawyer hasn’t; but he knows conditions. That’s why I’ve come to you.”
Norton Granger pondered. Slade Farrow watched him expectantly, but so carefully that the attorney did not realize the keen observance. At last, Granger spoke:
“This clothing business, Mr. Farrow. Are you anxious to buy out one that is doing well? Do you want a business that is already large?”
“No.” Farrow was emphatic. “I want a small business, and I would prefer one that is not going strong. That would mean a better purchase. I can attend to the expansion myself. Understand, though, I want to take over a concern that has been going for five or ten years at the least. I’m a stranger here in Southfield. I’ve got to depend upon the fact that the store is known.”
“I think,” said Granger, slowly, “that I can arrange the very purchase that you want to make. You have done well, Mr. Farrow, to come to see me. This may prove to be a fortunate coincidence.
“Let me take care of this matter for the time. Perhaps I can make some arrangements this afternoon. I shall be at home in the evening. Could you come there at eight o’clock?”
“Certainly.”
“Very well. We will have more time to discuss the matter, and by that time I may have broken the ice. As I understand it, you are prepared to pay now—”
“Yes. A good price if it seems fair. You can count on me for that, Mr. Granger.”
The young lawyer arose and extended his hand. The appointment was arranged. Farrow detected a pleased gleam in Granger’s face. He did not show his observance of the discovery, however, until he had reached the street.
It was then that Slade Farrow chuckled. He was smiling as he reached the Southfield House and entered. Harry Vincent, seated in the lobby, noted Farrow’s pleased expression. He decided that Slade Farrow’s mission to Southfield was already meeting with success.
In this assumption, Harry Vincent was correct.
CHAPTER V
THE DEAL
AT eight o’clock that evening, one of the trim Southfield taxicabs pulled up in front of a brick mansion on the outskirts of the city. Slade Farrow alighted, and the cab pulled away.
A few moments later, a coupe rolled up and parked beneath a clump of trees not far distant. Harry Vincent, seated in the darkness of the car, watched Farrow enter the house.
This was the home of Norton Granger. Slade Farrow, entering, was met by an elderly servant who solemnly ushered him into a small room which appeared to be a study. Two persons were there: one was Norton Granger; the other was a young woman whose attractive features made an immediate impression upon Slade Farrow.
“Good evening, Mr. Farrow,” exclaimed Granger, rising as he gave the greeting. “I should like you to meet Miss Mildred Legrand.”
Slade Farrow bowed. He took the chair which Norton Granger offered him. Seating himself behind a desk, Granger produced a stack of papers.
“The Southfield Clothing Shop,” explained the young lawyer, “is owned by Miss Legrand. She has had charge of it since her father’s illness, which terminated, unfortunately, in his death.
“I have informed Miss Legrand of your desire to purchase such an establishment, and she has agreed to the sale. These papers” — Granger was unfolding the packet — “contain full data concerning the present stock and assets of the Southfield Clothing Shop, Mr. Farrow.”
Nodding, Slade Farrow drew his chair beside the desk. He began to go over the documents, while Norton Granger added comments. At times the lawyer paused to ask questions of Mildred Granger. On these occasions, Slade Farrow’s gaze was keen.
THE ex-convict noted a listlessness to Mildred Legrand’s tone. He also detected a kindliness on the part of Norton Granger. These were facts which Farrow kept in mind. Although his entire attention seemed concerned with the matter of the business deal.
Half an hour passed. Slade Farrow settled back in his chair and folded his hands. He seemed to be quite pleased with the affairs of the Southfield Clothing Shop.
“I am ready to make an offer,” he declared. “This, of course, is subject to my inspection of the establishment. The information which you have here seems to be quite complete, so I have no reason to suppose that any proviso will be required.”
“You mean a cash offer,” interposed Granger.
“Yes,” rejoined Farrow. “For all stock, fixtures and good-will; immediate occupation of the premises; and I am to assume the lease. Fourteen thousand dollars.”
A slight gasp came from Mildred Legrand. Norton Granger covered it by turning immediately to Slade Farrow.
“I believe,” asserted the lawyer, “that your offer will be acceptable to Miss Legrand. I am acting as her attorney as well as yours, Mr. Farrow. I have taken the liberty to draw up the bill of sale, leaving spaces only for the amount and the signature.”
He produced the document in question, wrote in the sum of fourteen thousand dollars, and passed pens to Slade Farrow and Mildred Legrand. The signatures were made. Farrow drew a check book from his pocket and wrote out a check for the stipulated amount.
“You can deposit this tomorrow,” he told Granger. “If there is any change in the amount, we can settle that among ourselves.”
Mildred Legrand’s face had brightened. Slade Farrow noted it, but made no comment. Norton Granger began to speak in a friendly tone to Farrow when the old servant appeared at the door of the study.
“Doctor Broomfield is here, sir.”
Granger’s face clouded. The lawyer arose to his feet. Mildred Legrand placed a hand upon his arm.
“Doctor Broomfield has come to take me home, Norton,” she explained. “He — he promised to stop for me after he brought me here.”
“I thought,” returned Granger, solemnly, “that you might stay a while longer, Mildred. I wanted to take you home myself.”
“My business here is finished,” insisted Mildred, rising. “I–I think that it would be best for me to leave. I want to thank you, Norton, for doing so much in my behalf. I am pleased to have met you, Mr. Farrow.”
A protest was on Norton Granger’s lips. It was too late. The girl had reached the door. Granger, following, stopped on the threshold and watched Mildred join a tall, dignified gentleman at the outer door. He turned back into the study, his face morose.
GRANGER said nothing for a few moments after he had taken his seat behind the desk. He chanced to glance in Farrow’s direction, and saw that the visitor was eyeing him intently. The lawyer shifted uneasily as he gathered the papers, then turned to face Farrow squarely.
“I believe it right,” declared Granger, “that I should be frank with you, Mr. Farrow. Your purchase of this business has been a fair one. Yet I must admit that the price is higher than either Miss Legrand or myself had anticipated. That was the reason for Miss Legrand’s surprise.”
“I observed it,” returned Farrow, quietly.
“You are buying a business,” asserted Granger, “which is worth considerably more than the price that you are paying. At the same time, had you not entered the picture, the Southfield Clothing Shop would soon have reached the point where it would be worth absolutely nothing.”