St. Louis, 1821
“Now, Manuel, let’s do a little business,” Kincaid said in Spanish. They entered a stately looking bank with granite pillars beside the door. After a while, an officious young man, slightly older than himself, approached.
“Might I be of assistance…..sir?” he asked painfully.
Kincaid felt his stare as if he was saying, “Well, state your business. I’m a busy man.” Prissy little bastard, Kincaid thought. Not much of a man. “I need to talk to the head man.”
“Indeed,” came a cold reply. “Do you have an appointment?”
“Then I’m afraid that is impossible.”
“Impossible? That’s a fiddle-faddle word.”
“Mr……what is your name?”
“Kincaid. Joshua Kincaid.”
“Mr. Kincaid, the Merchants Bank and Trust does not conduct business in impromptu discussions. You will need an appointment.”
“Then I want an appointment.”
“What does this affair concern?”
“I’m looking for backing for a trading trip to Mexico.”
“Oh, is that so,” the clerk drew out his words. “First, Mr. Kincaid, we are in the business of lending money, not investing. Second, we are prudent and lend to trustworthy gentleman with sound endeavors such as stores, quarries, tanneries, and the like. We would certainly not risk a wild adventure in Mexico.”
“But I can double your money.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Kincaid. We do not speculate. Furthermore, there is the matter of your age. Good-day, Mr. Kincaid.” He closed emphasizing “mister”. [Mister in italics will do.]
Kincaid felt ashamed for his clumsy approach. But he couldn’t let on. Can’t let Manuel see I can’t get past the door, he thought.
He paused and abruptly put out his hand. “Thank you, sir. I will consider all you said.” The clerk hesitated, but Kincaid kept his hand out, until the man reluctantly took it.
Outside Manuel immediately asked, “What did he say?”
“He liked the idea.”
[If they don't speculate, they don't speculate. No reason he would continue with other reasons they won't do business with Kincaid.]