later, two days after New Year's day, when Landry came
down from Chicago on the afternoon train, he was full of the tales of a
great day on the Board of Trade. Laura, descending to the sitting-room,
just before dinner, found a group in front of the fireplace, where the
huge logs were hissing and crackling. Her husband and Cressler were
there, and Gretry, who had come down on an earlier train. Page sat near
at hand, her chin on her palm, listening intently to Landry, who held
the centre of the stage for the moment. In a far corner of the room
Sheldon Corthell, in a dinner coat and patent-leather pumps, a
cigarette between his fingers, read a volume of Italian verse.

"It was the confirmation of the failure of the Argentine crop that did
it," Landry was saying; "that and the tremendous foreign demand. She
opened steady enough at eighty-three, but just as soon as the gong
tapped we began to get it. Buy, buy, buy. Everybody is in it now. The
public are speculating. For one fellow who wants to sell there are a
dozen buyers. We had one of the hottest times I ever remember in the
Pit this morning."

Laura saw Jadwin's eyes snap.

"I told you we'd get this, Sam," he said, nodding to the broker.

"Oh, there's plenty of wheat," answered Gretry, easily. "Wait till we
get dollar wheat--if we do--and see it come out. The farmers haven't
sold it all yet. There's always an army of ancient hayseeds who have
the stuff tucked away--in old stockings, I guess--and who'll dump it on
you all right if you pay enough. There's plenty of wheat. I've seen it
happen before. Work the price high enough, and, Lord, how they'll
scrape the bins to throw it at you! You'd never guess from what
out-of-the-way places it would come."

"I tell you, Sam," retorted Jadwin, "the surplus of wheat is going out
of the country--and it's going fast. And some of these shorts will have
to hustle lively for it pretty soon."

"The Crookes gang, though," observed Landry, "seem pretty confident the
market will break. I'm sure they were selling short this morning."

"The idea," exclaimed Jadwin, incredulously, "the idea of selling short
in face of this Argentine collapse, and all this Bull news from Europe!"

"Oh, there are plenty of shorts," urged Gretry. "Plenty of them."

Try as he would, the echoes of the rumbling of the Pit reached Jadwin
at every hour of the day and night. The maelstrom there at the foot of
La Salle Street was swirling now with a mightier ru