e and handed them to the loan clerk. Of
course, the numbers on the bonds were not the same, but few persons
would notice a little thing like that, even if they kept a record of it.
They had the bonds--that was the main thing.

Once more John rushed to the 'phone, told Prescott what had occurred and
besought him for the bonds.

"It's too late now," growled Prescott. "Cotton has gone down. I could
only get one back at the most. We had better stand pat and get out on
the next bulge."

John was by this time almost hysterical. The perspiration broke out on
his forehead every now and then, and he shuddered as he counted his
securities and entered up his figures. If cotton should go down some
more! That was the hideous possibility. They would have to put up more
margin, and then--!

Down in the vault where the depositors' bonds were kept were two piles
of Overland 4s. One contained about two hundred and the other nearly six
hundred bonds. The par value of these negotiable securities alone was
nearly eight hundred thousand dollars. Twice a year John cut the coupons
off of them. Each pile was marked with the owner's name. They were never
called for, and it appeared that these customers intended to keep them
there permanently. John, realizing that the chances of detection were
smaller, removed two bonds from the pile of two hundred Overlands and
substituted them with Prescott for the two Navigation 4s.

Then cotton went down with a slump. Prescott did not wait even to
telephone. He came himself to the trust company and told John that they
needed two more bonds for additional margin to protect their loan. But
he said it was merely temporary, and that they had better even up by
buying some more cotton. John went down into the vault and came back
with four more Overland 4s bonds under his coat. He was in for it now
and might as well be hung for a sheep as for a lamb. He was beginning to
get used to the idea of being a thief. He was, to be sure, wretchedly
unhappy, but he was experiencing the excitement of trying to dodge Fate
until Fortune looked his way. Cotton still went down. It never occurred
to him that Prescott perhaps had not bought all the cotton. Now that he
is in prison he thinks maybe Prescott didn't. But he kept going down
into the vault and bringing up more bonds, and, getting reckless, bought
more cotton--quantities of it. In a month sixty bonds were gone from the
pile of two hundred. John, a nervous wreck, almost