“Good?  It’s simply superb.  He took me over the works—­a really beautiful sight, everything so admirably arranged.  Then we had more private talk.  Of course I spoke of you, said I could do nothing till we had consulted together.  I didn’t seem too eager—­not good policy.  But we’ve had some correspondence, and you shall see the letters.”

He handed them to his partner.  Warburton saw that there was a question of a good many thousand pounds.

“Of course,” he remarked, “I could only stand for a very small part in this.”

“Well, we must talk about that.  To tell you the truth, Will,” Sherwood continued, crossing his legs and clasping his hands behind his head, “I don’t see my way to find the whole capital, and yet I don’t want to bring in a stranger.  Applegarth could sell to a company any moment, but that isn’t his idea; he wants to keep the concern in as few hands as possible.  He has a first-rate manager; the mere jam-making wouldn’t worry us at all; and the office work is largely a matter of routine.  Will you take time to think about it?”

The figures which Warburton had before him were decidedly stimulating; they made a very pleasant contrast to the balance-sheets with which he had recently had to deal.  He knew roughly what sum was at his disposal for investment; the winding-up of the business here could be completed at any moment, and involved no risk of surprises.  But a thought had occurred to him which kept him silently reflecting for some minutes.

“I suppose,” he said presently, “this affair has about as little risk as anything one could put money in?”

“I should say,” Godfrey answered, with his man-of-business air, “that the element of risk is non-existent.  What can be more solid than jam?  There’s competition to be sure; but Applegarth is already a good name throughout England, and in the West they swear by it.  At Bristol, Exeter, Dorchester—­all over there—­Applegarth holds the field.  Very seriously speaking, I see in this proposal nothing but sure and increasing gain.”

“You know as well as I do,” Will resumed, “how I stand.  I have no resources of my own beyond what you are aware of.  But I’ve been thinking—­”

He broke off, stared at the window, drummed on the arm of his chair, Sherwood waiting with a patient smile.

“It’s my mother and sister I have in mind,” Will resumed.  “That property of theirs; it brings them about a hundred and fifty pounds a year in cash, and three times that in worry.  At any moment they might sell.  A man at St. Neots offers four thousand pounds; I suspect more might be got if Turnbull, their lawyer, took the matter in hand.  Suppose I advise them to sell and put the money in Applegarth?”

“By Jove!” cried Sherwood.  “How could they do better?  Splendid idea!”

“Yes—­if all goes well.  Bear in mind, on the other hand, that if they lost this money, they would have nothing to live upon, or as good as nothing.  They draw some fifty pounds a year from another source, and they have their own house—­that’s all.  Ought I to take this responsibility?”