ersation. Crookes, as ever
monosyllabic, took himself on in a little while, and Sweeny, his chair
tipped back against the wall, his hands clasped behind his head,
listened to Freye explaining to Cressler the plans of the proposed
clique and the lines of their attack.

He talked for nearly an hour and a half, at the end of which time the
lunch table was one litter of papers--letters, contracts, warehouse
receipts, tabulated statistics, and the like.

"Well," said Freye, at length, "well, Charlie, do you see the game?
What do you think of it?"

"It's about as ingenious a scheme as I ever heard of, Billy," answered
Cressler. "You can't lose, with Crookes back of it."

"Well, then, we can count you in, hey?"

"Count nothing," declared Cressler, stoutly. "I don't speculate."

"But have you thought of this?" urged Freye, and went over the entire
proposition, from a fresh point of view, winding up with the
exclamation: "Why, Charlie, we're going to make our everlasting
fortunes."

"I don't want any everlasting fortune, Billy Freye," protested
Cressler. "Look here, Billy. You must remember I'm a pretty old cock.
You boys are all youngsters. I've got a little money left and a little
business, and I want to grow old quiet-like. I had my fling, you know,
when you boys were in knickerbockers. Now you let me keep out of all
this. You get some one else."

"No, we'll be jiggered if we do," exclaimed Sweeny. "Say, are ye scared
we can't buy that trade journal? Why, we have it in our pocket, so we
have. D'ye think Crookes, now, couldn't make Bear sentiment with the
public, with just the lift o' one forefinger? Why, he owns most of the
commercial columns of the dailies already. D'ye think he couldn't swamp
that market with sellin' orders in the shorter end o' two days? D'ye
think we won't all hold together, now? Is that the bug in the butter?
Sure, now, listen. Let me tell you--"

"You can't tell me anything about this scheme that you've not told me
before," declared Cressler. "You'll win, of course. Crookes & Co. are
like Rothschild--earthquakes couldn't budge 'em. But I promised myself
years ago to keep out of the speculative market, and I mean to stick by
it."

"Oh, get on with you, Charlie," said Freye, good-humouredly, "you're
scared."

"Of what," asked Cressler, "speculating? You bet I am, and when you're
as old as I am, and have been through three panics, and have known what
it meant to have a corner bust under you,