finitely.' By the way, are you going to
the Stock Exchange to-day?"

"I'm not in a mood for the Stock Exchange, father. If that is your last
word, then my last word is: I am your partner----"

"So much the worse," said the father.

"--and therefore have a right to dispose as I please of my interest in
the business. I therefore demand the immediate payment of so much of my
inheritance as will be required to pay the wages of the workmen you've
dismissed for at least another year, with the exception of the single
men who enter the army."

"No, my boy, we won't do anything of the sort. Don't forget that I'm
running this business. According to the contract made when you came of
age, you may demand a million dollars upon severing your connection with
the firm. This sum will be at your disposal at the bank to-day at noon,
but not a cent more. What you do with it is a matter of complete
indifference to me, but let me remind you that ordinarily when a man
throws money out of the window, he at least likes to hear it drop."

"That surely cannot be your last word, father, otherwise we must part."

"All right, my boy, let's part till dinner-time. I hope to find you in a
more sensible frame of mind when the family assembles this evening. I've
told you what will be done in the factory in the meantime, and as for
our trip, we'll discuss that to-night with your mother. Now leave me, I
must get ready for Wall Street."

The door closed noiselessly after Mr. Hanbury, Junior. "The scamp," said
the father to himself, "I can't help admiring him. Thirty years ago I
entertained just such ideas, but what has become of them!" He thought a
moment, passed his hand over his forehead, then jumped up quickly and
exclaimed: "Now to work!" He pressed a button on the desk, his secretary
entered, and the conversation that ensued dealt exclusively with coming
events in Wall Street.

_Chapter VI_

A NIGHT IN NEW YORK

The _New York Daily Telegraph_ had already issued several regular
editions and a number of extras, without really having conveyed much
definite information, for the dispatches consisted for the most part of
rumors that arose like distant lightning on the western horizon, and it
was quite impossible to ascertain just where. A dark bank of clouds lay
over the Pacific States, completely shutting in the territory that had
been cut off from all communication, both by wire and rail. The natural
supposition was, that the Japanese