"Is Mr. Sharp or Mr. Ketchum in?" he inquired of a sharp-
faced young clerk, the son, as it turned out, of the senior partner.
"Yes, sir, Mr. Sharp is in."
"Is he at leisure? I wish to see him on business."
"Go in there, sir," said the clerk, pointing to a small private
room in the corner of the office. Following the directions, Mr.
Duncan found himself in the presence of a man of about fifty,
with a hatchet face, much puckered with wrinkles, and a very
foxy expression.
"I am Mr. Sharp," he said, in answer to an inquiry.
Prince Duncan unfolded his business. He wished to borrow
eight or nine thousand dollars on ten thousand dollars' worth of
United States Government bonds.
"Why don't you sell at once?" asked Sharp keenly.
"Because I wish, for special reasons, to redeem these identical
bonds, say six months hence."
"They are your own?" asked Mr. Sharp.
"They are a part of my wife's estate, of which I have control.
I do not, however, wish her to know that I have raised money
on them," answered Duncan, with a smooth falsehood.
"Of course, that makes a difference. However, I will loan
you seven thousand dollars, and you will give me your note for
seven thousand five hundred, at the usual interest, with permission
to sell the bonds at the end of six months if the note remains
unpaid then, I to hand you the balance.
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