How an Annual Meeting Was Held--Once

O, a ship she was rigged and ready for sea,
And all of her sailors were fishes to be!
Windy-y-weather,
Stormy-y-weather!
When the wind blows we're all together!
--The Fishes.

Fletcher Fogg, suave, dignified, radiating business importance,
freshened by a barber's ministrations, walked into the Franklin
law-offices the next morning at nine-thirty.

He announced himself to a girl typist, and she referred him to a young
man who came forth from a private room.

"I have power of attorney from Mr. Franklin to transact his routine
business," explained the young man. "Of course, if it's a new case or a
question of law--"

"Neither, neither, my dear sir! Simply a matter of routine. But," he
leaned close to the young man's ear, "strictly private."

Mr. Fogg himself closed the door of the inner office when the two had
retired there.

"One of your matters to-day, I believe, is the annual meeting of the
Vose line. I am a stockholder."

Fogg produced a packet of certificates and laid them on the desk.

"Are there to be any officers or other stockholders present?" he asked,
showing just a bit of solicitude, in spite of himself.

"I think not," returned the young man. "Nothing has been said about it.
The proxies and instructions have been sent in, as usual, by registered
mail." He indicated documents stacked on the desk. "I was just about to
begin on the matter."