Parker indicated a chair and proffered a cigar.
"Now then, Mr. Farrel, I am quite at your service."
Miguel Farrel lighted his cigar and thoughtfully tossed the burnt match
into a bed of pansies. Evidently, he was formulating his queries.
"What was the exact sum for which the mortgage on this ranch was
foreclosed, Mr. Parker?"
"Two hundred and eighty-three thousand, nine hundred and forty-one
dollars, and eight cents, Mr. Farrel."
"A sizable wad. Mortgage covered the entire ranch?"
Parker nodded.
"When you secured control of the First National Bank of El Toro, you
found that old mortgage carried in its list of assets. You also
discovered that it had been renewed several times, each time for a
larger sum, from which you deduced that the prospects for the ultimate
payment of the mortgage were nebulous and distant. Your hypothesis was
correct. The Farrels never did to-day a task that could be deferred
until to-morrow. Well, you went out and looked over the security for
that mortgage. You found it to be ample--about three to one, as a very
conservative appraisal. You discovered that all of the stockholders in
the First National were old friends of my father and extremely
reluctant to foreclose on him. As a newcomer; you preferred not to
antagonize your associates by forcing the issue upon them, so you
waited until the annual election of stockholders, when you elected your
own Board of Directors.
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