White Ashes Part 53

"Ah! You mean--?" said Mr. Wintermuth.

"These are the lines that we have lost since we went out of the Osgood office."

"Indeed! What is the total?" asked the other man, with interest.

"I haven't quite finished, but I should say it would come close to $350,000."

"Which I suppose the Salamander got. I don't like to rejoice in other men's misfortunes, Richard, but there is a certain element of justice in that," said the older man, gravely.

"What interests me is, how much more than that they got," Smith returned. "Don't forget that Cole is clever, but not the careful underwriter Mr. Osgood is, and that O'Connor was out to make a record for premium income. If the Salamander's loss up there is less than $600,000, I shall be surprised."

"Their surplus isn't as much as that, is it? That will impair them."

"On the first of January their surplus was a little less than half a million."

"Oh, well," Mr. Wintermuth returned, "I suppose they'll a.s.sess their stockholders. That man Murch will probably get up an underwriting syndicate to handle it."

"But suppose he doesn't. Suppose they decide to reinsure and quit.

Murch has the reputation of being a bad loser," said Smith, slowly.

His chief looked at him.

"Let them reinsure, then. But how does that affect us?" he said.

"Why shouldn't we reinsure them?" said the Vice-President.

"What!" exclaimed Mr. Wintermuth. "What's that you say?"

"I say," returned Smith, "that the Salamander is far more likely to reinsure than to stand a heavy a.s.sessment. And we want that business of theirs. We have a little score to settle with the Salamander, sir."

"Yes, yes," admitted the President. "O'Connor has treated us very badly; still, it has worked out very fortunately for us. And at any rate," he added, "I do not believe in allowing personal animus to govern one's business acts or policy."

It was a sounding phrase, although not quite new.

"Neither do I," said Smith, promptly; "but this is more than an act of poetic justice. Of course there's a certain satisfaction in finding that one of the packages stolen from us contained a bomb which blew up the burglar--but how much more appropriate it would be if the same explosion hurled the rest of the stolen property into the hands of the original and rightful owners. And besides that, the Salamander business is well worth putting on our books--and there's a lot of it."

"Yes. Too much, in fact," said his chief. "Our resources are not sufficient to permit our taking on such a load."

"I admit that," replied the younger man. "We will have to increase our capital a half a million. And now's the time to get it. We can issue it at 200, which is rather less than the present stock is selling for, and the premium will take care of our surplus when we take on this new business. I believe our stockholders will back us up. While other companies are asking their stockholders for more money to pay their Boston losses, we are asking ours to put us in the first rank of underwriting inst.i.tutions in the United States."

Mr. Wintermuth looked at the young man before him, a long, grave look.

"Richard," he said at last, "I am fond of you, and I suppose that having no son of my own to be proud of, I am proud of you, too. But sometimes you make me feel a hundred years old."

"You needn't," answered Smith, affectionately, "for you've taught me almost all I know. If I am a little more aggressive than I might be, perhaps you were too, at my age. The question is, what is to the best interest of the Guardian?"

"That is a question," said Mr. Wintermuth, "for the directors to decide."

"Of course," returned the other. "But I should be surprised if our directorate didn't take a broad and liberal view of it. Immediately following this conflagration, when so much insurance capital has been wiped out, there will be a need for more. We will need our share, for we're going to do a bigger business. Even if we don't take over the Salamander or some other company, we're going to swing a much heavier premium income this year than last."

"Well," said the President, "since you have brought up the question, I should fail in my duty to the company if I should let an opportunity for extending our business pa.s.s by without submitting the matter to the directors. If you find that the Salamander business is for sale, and they want us to make a bid for it, I will call a special meeting of the board and lay the facts before our friends."

It was not for some little time that there was any palpable result of the meeting, when secured, for neither Smith nor Mr. Simeon Belknap was a man to hurry a matter to the prejudice of his interests. Following his conference with O'Connor and Mr. Murch, Mr. Belknap spent parts of several days moving quietly and almost imperceptibly about on investigations of his own. It was not every company which had facilities for extending its premiums some three million dollars a year; and besides that, most of them were being kept so busy in Boston that they had no leisure to consider so large a proposition.

Both Smith and Mr. Wintermuth were by this time aware that Mr. Belknap was handling the Salamander's affairs, and the Vice-President kept on that gifted gentleman as close an espionage as he could contrive to keep. After observing him casually engage in conversation three prominent underwriting executives, any one of whom might be supposed to be in a position to take over the Salamander, Smith determined to take the bull by the horns. On the third day after the directors' meeting he took pains to meet Mr. Belknap and similarly to engage him in casual conversation.

When, a little later, they adjourned from the Club to Mr. Belknap's office, the matter was practically settled, subject to the ratification of the directorates of both companies.

The Boston conflagration was not quite two weeks a thing of the past when Mr. Belknap signified that he had succeeded in his task of securing on satisfactory terms a purchaser for the Salamander, and if the necessary executives of that company would be in Mr. Murch's office at two-thirty that afternoon, he would bring the contracts for signature.

Over the telephone Mr. Murch said: "All right. Bring them." To his secretary he said: "Ask Mr. O'Connor to be here at two-thirty this afternoon."

At two-thirty Mr. O'Connor appeared.

"h.e.l.lo--glad to see you," said Mr. Murch, urbanely. Now that the matter was coming out with such a comparatively favorable color, he saw no reason to abandon the amenities. In the first flush of anger they had suffered somewhat, but that was all over.

"Good-day," returned O'Connor, shortly. He had been out on the Street for three days, trying to catch the scent of some foreign reinsurance company ignorant of his impending change, so that his fall might not seem too humiliatingly flat, when the news should be wired every agent of the Salamander to cease writing. He had met, however, with no success, so he cannot be blamed if his response to Mr. Murch was a trifle lacking in enthusiasm.

"You're prompt," proceeded that gentleman, ignoring his visitor's lack of cordiality. "I'm glad you're on time, for Mr. Belknap just telephoned that he was on his way here with the contracts and the representative of the company that's taking us over."

"Did he say what company it was?" inquired O'Connor, with the first gleam of interest he had shown.

"I don't believe I asked him. There seems to be a lot of secrecy about these deals, and I didn't care a hang, myself, anyway. He said it was a thoroughly responsible company, and our policyholders would be fully protected. They'll be here in a minute."

"I wonder what company it is," the other man said, reflectively, half to himself.

"You'll know in a moment, because, unless I'm wrong, the boy is bringing Belknap's card now."

The boy entered with the card in question.

"Ask them to come in," said Mr. Murch.

O'Connor stood looking out the window. His gaze wandered over the well-known roofs of the buildings along William Street, and a momentary pang shot through him to think that under those roofs to-morrow there would be no place for him, and that his venture was all to begin again.

He no longer felt any sense of grievance, any animosity against Murch.

He was merely wondering vaguely at Fate, and at this latest whim of hers. So deep was he in his reverie that he scarcely noticed the entrance of the expected callers until he heard a voice that recalled him to actualities.

"Mr. Murch, let me make you acquainted with Mr. Smith," Belknap was saying; and O'Connor turned sharply back from the window.

To Mr. Belknap's courteous greeting he gave little heed, but like a charmed canary before a cobra his look rested on the second man of the pair. This was a young man with level, gray eyes, who nodded slightly and cheerfully said:--

"How do you do, Mr. O'Connor."

No word said O'Connor; his eyes neither lowered nor turned aside their fascinated gaze. Each of the four men stood still, waiting for the little drama to end: a long minute.

"Here are the papers, Mr. Murch," said the intermediary, at last, turning to the financier.

"All right; let me look over them," said the other.

Five minutes later the Salamander had ceased to exist.