But, since he considered Martin Wedekind his mentor in all things financial, he ran out to the house in Lincoln Addition that evening and put the case before his friend, in all its details, including the Baron's extraordinary knowledge of mines and mining.
"Shall I sell?" he asked.
Wedekind shook his head. "No. Don’t sell to. . ."
"To the Baron?"
"To any German! To anybody unless you know exactly who and what he is. No, no! Don't you ask me to give you any reasons. Just do what I tell you, will you?"
"Sure!"
And so, the next day, when Herr von Götz-Wrede called on him for his final decision he was met by such a staunch, hard "No! I won't sell, and that's flat!" that the German gave up.
"All right, Mr. Graves," he said, waving a careless hand. "All right. Only, please keep it to yourself. Don't speak about that offer I made you. People would think me slightly—oh—touched."
"But why do you. . .?"
"I am a rich man, I have hobbies, and I like to gratify them. That's all. By the way," shaking hands again, "do come over to Germany and look me up."
"No. I don’t want to travel."
"Don't be so provincial. Come on. You're a rich man, a man of leisure. Do come, Promise me that you'll come!"
"No!"
"I shan't take no for an answer." He lifted a threatening finger. "Honestly, unless you promise me, I am going to stay right here in Spokane, and
