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