XI. The Artificial Paradise
It was, I recall, at that period of the late unpleasantness in
the little Central American republic of Vespuccia, when things
looked darkest for American investors, that I hurried home one
evening to Kennedy, bursting with news.
By way of explanation, I may add that during the rubber boom
Kennedy had invested in stock of a rubber company in Vespuccia,
and that its value had been shrinking for some time with that
elasticity which a rubber band shows when one party suddenly lets
go his end. Kennedy had been in danger of being snapped rather
hard by the recoil, and I knew he had put in an order with his
broker to sell and take his loss when a certain figure was
reached. My news was a first ray of light in an otherwise dark
situation, and I wanted to advise him to cancel the selling order
and stick for a rise.
Accordingly I hurried unceremoniously into our apartment with the
words on my lips before I had fairly closed the door. "What do
you think, Craig" I shouted. "It is rumoured that the
revolutionists have captured half a million dollars from the
government and are sending it to--" I stopped short. I had no
idea that Kennedy had a client, and a girl, too.
With a hastily mumbled apology I checked myself and backed out
toward my own room.
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