Once a Week

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by A. A. Milne


  THE MAGNATE

  It was in October, 19-- that the word "Zinc" first began to be heard infinancial circles. City men, pushing their dominoes regretfully away,and murmuring "Zinc" in apologetic tones, were back in their offices bythree o'clock, forgetting in their haste to leave the usual twopenceunder the cup for the waitress. Clubmen, glancing at the tape on theirway to the smoking-room, said to their neighbours, "Zinc's moved apoint, I see," before covering themselves up with _The Times_. In thetrains, returning husbands asked each other loudly, "What's all thisabout zinc?"--all save the very innocent ones, who whispered, "I say,what _is_ zinc exactly?" The music-halls took it up. No sooner had theword "Zinc" left the lips of an acknowledged comedian than the house wasin roars of laughter. The _furore_ at the Collodium when Octavius Octo,in his world-famous part of the landlady of a boarding-house, remarked,"I know why my ole man's so late. 'E's buying zinc," is still rememberedin the bars round Piccadilly.

  . . . . .

  To explain it properly it will be necessary (my readers will be alarmedto hear) to go back some thirty years. This, as a simple calculationshows, takes us to June, 18--. It was in June, 18-- that Felix Moses, astout young man of attractive appearance (if you care for that style),took his courage in both hands, and told Phyllida Sloan that he wasworth ten thousand a year and was changing his name to Mountenay. MissSloan, seeing that it was the beginning of a proposal, said hastilythat she was changing hers to Abraham.

  "You're marrying Leo Abraham?" asked Felix in amazement. "Ah!" A gust ofjealousy swept over him. He licked his lips. There was a dangerous lookin his eyes--a look that was destined in after days to make Emperors andrival financiers quail. "Ah!" he said softly. "Leo Abraham! I shall notforget!"

  . . . . .

  And now it will be necessary (my readers will be relieved to learn) tojump forward some thirty years. This obviously takes us to September19--. Let us on this fine September morning take a peep into "No. --Throgneedle Street, E.C.," and see how the business of the mother cityis carried on.

  On the fourth floor we come to the sanctum of the great man himself."Mr. Felix Mountenay--No admittance," is painted upon the outer door. Itis a name which is known and feared all over Europe. Mr. Mountenay'sprivate detective stands on one side of the door; on the other side isMr. Mountenay's private wolf-hound. Murmuring the word "Press," however,we pass hastily through, and find ourselves before Mr. Mountenayhimself. Mr. Mountenay is at work; let us watch him through a typicalfive minutes.

  For a moment he stands meditating in the middle of the room. Kings aretottering on their thrones. Empires hang upon his nod. What will hedecide? Suddenly he blows a cloud of smoke from his cigar, and rushes tothe telephone.

  "Hallo! Is that you, Jones?... What are Margarine Prefs. at?..._What?..._ No, Margarine _Prefs._, idiot.... Ah! Then sell. Keep onselling till I tell you to stop.... Yes."

  He hangs up the receiver. For two minutes he paces the room, smokingrapidly. He stops a moment ... but it is only to remove his cigar-band,which is in danger of burning. Then he resumes his pacings. Anotherminute goes rapidly by. He rushes to the telephone again.

  "Hallo! Is that you, Jones?... What are Margarine Prefs. down to now?...Ah! Then buy. Keep on buying.... Yes."

  He hangs up the receiver. By this master-stroke he has made a quarter ofa million. It may seem to you or me an easy way of doing it. Ah, butwhat, we must ask ourselves, of the great brain that conceived the idea,the foresight which told the exact moment when to put it into action,the cool courage which seized the moment--what of the grasp of affairs,the knowledge of men? Ah! Can we grudge it him that he earns a quarterof a million more quickly than we do?

  Yet Mr. Felix Mountenay is not happy. When we have brought off a coupfor a hundred thousand even, we smile gaily. Mr. Mountenay did notsmile. Fiercely he bit another inch off his cigar, and muttered tohimself.

  The words were "Leo Abraham! Wait!"

  . . . . .

  This is positively the last row of dots. Let us take advantage of themto jump forward another month. It was October 1st, 19--. (If that was aSunday, then it was October 2nd. Anyhow, it was October.)

  Mr. Felix Mountenay was sleeping in his office. For once that iron brainrelaxed. He had made a little over three million in the last month, andthe strain was too much for him. But a knock at the door restored himinstantly to his own cool self.

  "I beg your pardon, sir," said his secretary, "but somebody is sellingzinc."

  The word "zinc" touched a chord in Mr. Mountenay's brain which had laindormant for years. Zinc! Why did zinc remind him of Leo Abraham?

  "Fetch the _Encyclopedia Britannica_, quick!" he cried.

  The secretary, a man of herculean build, returned with some of it. Withthe luck which proverbially attends rich men, Mr. Mountenay picked upthe "Z" volume at once. As he read the Zinc article it all came back tohim. Leo Abraham had owned an empty zinc-mine! Was his enemy in hisclutches at last?

  "Buy!" he said briefly.

  In a fortnight the secretary had returned.

  "Well," said Mr. Mountenay, "have you bought all the zinc there is?"

  "Yes, sir," said the secretary. "And a lot that there isn't," he added.

  "Good!" He paused a moment. "When Mr. Leo Abraham calls," he addedgrimly, "show him up at once."

  It was a month later that a haggard man climbed the stairs of No. --Throgneedle Street, and was shown into Mr. Mountenay's room.

  "Well," said the financier softly, "what can I do for you?"

  "I want some zinc," said Leo Abergavenny.

  "Zinc," said Mr. Mountenay, with a smile, "is a million pounds a ton. Oran acre, or a gallon, or however you prefer to buy it," he addedhumorously.

  Leo went white.

  "You wish to ruin me?"

  "I do. A promise I made to your wife some years ago."

  "My wife?" cried Leo. "What do you mean? I'm not married."

  It was Mr. Mountenay's turn to go white. He went it.

  "Not married? But Miss Sloan----"

  Mr. Leo Abergavenny sat down and mopped his face.

  "I don't know what you mean," he said. "I asked Miss Sloan to marry me,and told her I was changing my name to Abergavenny. And she said thatshe was changing hers to Moses. Naturally, I thought----"

  "Stop!" cried Mr. Mountenay. He sat down heavily. Something seemed tohave gone out of his life; in a moment the world was empty. He looked upat his old rival, and forced a laugh.

  "Well, well," he said; "she deceived us both. Let us drink to our luckyescape." He rang the bell.

  "And then," he said in a purring voice, "we can have a little talk aboutzinc. After all, business is still business."

 

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