Diary of a Drug Fiend

84 The Diary of a Drug Fiend “In fact, I assure you,” said I. ‘ Of course, it was all very well when I was a bachelor. Simple tastes, you know. But this little lady makes all the dif’.”’ . “Why, certainly,’’ replied Feccles, very seriously. “Yes, I see that perfectly. In fact, if I may say so, it’s really a duty to yourself and your heirs, to put yourself on Easy Street. But money’s been frightfully tight since the war, as you know. What with the collapse in the foreign exchanges, the decrease in the purchasing power of money, and the world’s gold all locked up in Washington, things are pretty awkward. But then, you know, it’s just that sort of situation which provides opportunities to a man with real brains. Victorian prosperity made us all rich without our knowing anything about it or doing anything for it.” “Yes,” I admitted, “ the gilt edges seem to have come off the gingerbread securities.” “Well, look here, Pendragon,” he said, pulling ‘his chair half round so as to face me squarely, and making his points by tapping his Corona on a plate, “ the future lies with just two things as far as big money’s concerned. One’s oil, and the other is cotton. Now, I don’t know a thing about cotton, but I'll give any sperm whale that ever blew four thousand points in twelve thousand up about oil, and you can lay your shirt on the challenger.” “Yes, I see that,’’ I replied brightly. ‘“ Of course, I don’t know the first thing about finance; but what you say is absolutely common sense. And I’ve got a sort of flair for these things, I believe.’ “Why, it’s very curious you should say that,” returned Feccles, as in great surprise. ‘ I was thinking the same thing myself. We know you've got pluck, and that’s the first essential in any game. And making money is the greatest game there is. But beside that, I’ve got a hunch that you've got the right kind of brain for this business. You're as shrewd as they make ‘em, and you’ve got a good imagination. I don’t