"
"Oh, come. That isn't a nice way to speak of an old friend and
classmate," remarked Mr. Gregg, reprovingly. "Now, I always feel sorry
when I see a decent young chap like that throwing away a good chance,
and want to help him if I can. So in the present case, I think we
really ought to send in a report that will satisfy old Hepburn, and
keep the boy solid with his employers. I shouldn't know how to word it
myself, but if you, with your expert knowledge of the subject, will
make it out, of course after taking a look at the mine, I'll see that
you don't lose anything by your kindness."
"All right," replied Thorpe, who was quite sharp enough to comprehend
the other's meaning. "I'll do it."
So the two conspirators drove to the picturesque fishing village of
Portugal Cove, where they hired a boat to carry them across to Bell
Island. There they paid a hasty visit to the mine, which Mr. Gregg
plausibly belittled and undervalued, until Thorpe really began to
consider it a greatly overestimated piece of property, and this idea he
embodied in a report that he wrote out that very evening.
"I'm glad to see that you think as I do concerning the real
worthlessness of Bell Island," remarked Mr. Gregg, gravely, as he
glanced over the paper, "and the man who would have anything to do with
it after reading this must be a greater fool than I take old Hepburn to
be.
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