Jim smiled. "I like to think of Mother driving sedately out for an airing in a large and respectable Daimler. Do you want anything in the town, sir?"
"No, nothing, thank you. Ah, Jim!"
Jim had stepped into his car, but he turned his head inquiringly towards his stepfather.
Sir Adrian polished his monocle and said blandly: "Don't commit yourself in any way, Jim."
"Not going to," said Jim.
"You may find it a trifle awkward, dealing with a man old enough to be your father. You can with perfect propriety point out to Mansell that you have as yet no certain knowledge of your financial position. And, Jim!"
"Sir?"
"If you see that ill-conditioned son of Mansell, do not let your very natural desire to—er—push his face in run away with you."
Jim laughed. "You know, you really ought to come with me, Adrian."
"I should be quite out of place, believe me, my dear boy. Well, Timothy, what is it?"
His son, who had entered the garage, said: "Nothing. Oh, I say, Jim, are you going out? Can I come too?"
"Certainly not," replied Sir Adrian. "Jim is going into Portlaw on business."
"Well, I could wait for him, couldn't I?"
"No. Strange as it may seem to you, you are not wanted," said Sir Adrian.
"He can come if he likes, sir," said Jim, starting his engine. "I don't mind."
"You will do much better without him. No, Timothy."
"But, Father, why can't I—"
Sir Adrian's aloof gaze came to bear on his son's face. "No, Timothy," he repeated in a patient voice.
Mr. Harte sighed and refrained from further speech.
Jim backed the Bentley out of the garage and said with a twinkle: "How do you get your results, sir? Is it the power of the human eye?"
Sir Adrian smiled faintly. "Just force of personality," he replied.
His son, guessing correctly that this interchange referred to himself, gave an injured sniff and walked off in a dudgeon.
Jim covered the five miles by the coast road round the bay into Portlaw at his usual swift speed and threaded his way through the streets of the town to the offices of Kane and Mansell, situated in one of the busiest roads. A policeman, taking exception to his evident desire to leave his car parked in the main street, directed him firmly down a side street to the yard at the back of the building. Here Jim found Paul Mansell's sports roadster standing under the shelter of a lean-to roof. He ran the Bentley up alongside it, and got out, and entered the building through the back door. Being quite unfamiliar with the place, he plunged into a labyrinth of packing and ledger rooms and created a sensation amongst the female staff. These damsels, recognising the new head of the firm, and most favourably impressed by his appearance, found his arrival in the back premises extremely funny, or—as they themselves later described it—a perfect scream. There was much staring, a good deal of giggling, and any number of Oh—Mr. Kanes! before one, less impressionable than her sisters, volunteered to escort him to Mr. Mansell's office. Mr. James Kane was not a shy man, but under the battery of admiring, curious or amused eyes he perceptibly changed colour and was thankful to find himself presently in a less populous part of the building.
Joe Mansell was alone and greeted his young visitor with almost effusive kindliness, patting him on the shoulder, settling him in the easiest chair the room held, and thrusting a box of cigars towards him. From his opening gambit of: "Well, Jim, I expect you're feeling all at sea, eh, my boy?" Jim realised that his stepfather had been right in prophesying an awkward interview.
In actual fact it was not as difficult as he had anticipated.
Paul Mansell put in no appearance, and for the first half-hour Joe Mansell confined his discourse to an exposition of the firm's aims and standing. Jim attended to him closely, asked several intelligent questions, and was warmly complimented upon his grasp of the business.
"Well, then there's this Australian proposition we're interested in," said Joe. "I'd better give you some idea of what it all means."
Jim said politely that he would be very grateful to have the matter explained to him, and sat in interested silence while Joe talked. Joe, becoming more bluff and fatherly every minute, soon inspired him with some of his dead cousin's contempt for his mental capacity. He found himself growing steadily more hostile to a scheme put forward so speciously and presently interposed to put forward a tentative suggestion of his own that the firm should be turned into a public company.
Even as he said it, he knew that he had not the smallest intention of allowing Joe Mansell to get control. It would seem like a betrayal of Clement and Silas, and John, and old Matthew Kane, the founder of the house.
He was conscious for the first time in his life of family pride stirring in him. These Mansells aren't going to control my business! he thought. Damn it all, I'm a Kane!
Joe, watching him, saw the hardening of his mouth and jaw, and a steely light in his eyes unpleasantly reminiscent of his cousin Silas. Quelling his own exasperation, he became even more paternal and told Jim he could well appreciate his point of view but thought that Jim must just trust him to guide his footsteps aright.
Before Jim could think of a polite way of saying that he had no intention of being guided by a Mansell an interruption occurred. A knock fell on the door, and immediately following it Oscar Roberts walked into the room.
Jim, who had expected to see Paul Mansell, and had turned his head with a gathering frown on his brow, got up with a look of relief.
Joe's expression said plainly that he had not expected this visit and did not appreciate it. He greeted Roberts with a bare assumption of cordiality and said pointedly that he was having a private chat with the firm's new head.
"So they told me," replied Roberts, his coldly calculating gaze resting for a moment on Joe's heavy countenance. "Guess what you're talking about is as much my show as anyone's, isn't it?" He shook hands with Jim. "Say, Kane, if you want anyone to explain my firm's proposition to you, I'm the man you're looking for."
"Naturally, naturally!" Joe said. "You—er—you have come at a most opportune moment, Roberts. We were discussing your proposition."
"I thought maybe you were," said Roberts ironically. He glanced round the room with a look of surprise. "I don't see Mr. Paul Mansell. Is he out?"
Joe reddened a little. "My son has a lot of work on hand. His presence is really not necessary."
"Well, I certainly thought I should find him here," said Roberts, lowering his long limbs into a chair. "What do you want me to tell you, Kane?"
"Really, I don't think you need tell me anything," replied Jim. He laid his hand on a typescript lying on the desk. "It's all here, isn't it? With your permission, Mr. Mansell, I'll take it home with me and study it at my leisure."
"Of course! Certainly! But time presses, you know, Jim. Can't keep our good friend here hanging about indefinitely."
"It's O.K. by me," said Roberts. "I'd like to have Kane go into it by himself and come to an unbiased decision. If he feels he'd rather not take it on, why, I shall quite understand and go elsewhere."
Joe Mansell looked dissatisfied but gave a reluctant agreement. After a few minutes of somewhat idle talk the interview came to an end. Joe shook hands with Jim, prophesying that he would soon acquire a grasp of the business, and Jim and Roberts went out together.
Jim said, with a slight touch of annoyance: "Are you by any chance constituting yourself as a bodyguard to me, sir?"
"I won't say just that," replied Roberts carefully. "Though you sure are walking right into the lion's den when you visit that office."
"Really, sir, don't you think you're being a trifle absurd? Did you expect to find a corpse, or what?"