rit.

"I'd love to, but I don't know if I dare risk it. How much could I lose if
things went wrong?"

"I shouldn't have spoken of it, only you seemed so keen about it,"
Macalister answered coldly.

Philip felt that Macalister looked upon him as rather a donkey.

"I'm awfully keen on making a bit," he laughed.

"You can't make money unless you're prepared to risk money."

Macalister began to talk of other things and Philip, while he was
answering him, kept thinking that if the venture turned out well the
stockbroker would be very facetious at his expense next time they met.
Macalister had a sarcastic tongue.

"I think I will have a flutter if you don't mind," said Philip anxiously.

"All right. I'll buy you two hundred and fifty shares and if I see a
half-crown rise I'll sell them at once."

Philip quickly reckoned out how much that would amount to, and his mouth
watered; thirty pounds would be a godsend just then, and he thought the
fates owed him something. He told Mildred what he had done when he saw her
at breakfast next morning. She thought him very silly.

"I never knew anyone who made money on the Stock Exchange," she said.
"That's what Emil always said, you can't expect to make money on the Stock
Exchange, he said."

Philip bought an evening paper on his way home and turned at once to the
money columns. He knew nothing about these things and had difficulty in
finding the stock which Macalister had spoken of. He saw they had advanced
a quarter. His heart leaped, and then he felt sick with apprehension in
case Macalister had forgotten or for some reason had not bought.
Macalister had promised to telegraph. Philip could not wait to take a tram
home. He jumped into a cab. It was an unwonted extravagance.

"Is there a telegram for me?" he said, as he burst in.

"No," said Mildred.

His face fell, and in bitter disappointment he sank heavily into a chair.

"Then he didn't buy them for me after all. Curse him," he added violently.
"What cruel luck! And I've been thinking all day of what I'd do with the
money."

"Why, what were you going to do?" she asked.

"What's the good of thinking about that now? Oh, I wanted the money so
badly."

She gave a laugh and handed him a telegram.

"I was only having a joke with you. I opened it."

He tore it out of her hands. Macalister had bought him two hundred and
fifty shares and sold them at the half-crown profit he had suggested. The
commission note was to f