lungs were weak, and
his body was much emaciated. He was not the Tom Flannery of old, the Tom
so full of boyish spirits and desire to push his paper trade. This
change in their young companion caused Herbert and Bob keen anxiety.
They had watched beside his bed through delirium and helplessness, when
there seemed no hope of his recovery. How glad their young hearts were
when he began to rally, and they could see him in imagination back with
them again in their old pleasures and pastimes! His failure, therefore,
to throw off the racking cough and regain his strength was a sore
disappointment to them, but this was not their only source of
apprehension.

How full these two weeks had been of bitter trouble--trouble that drew
deeply upon their sympathy; that destroyed splendid prospects and forced
one of them from a position of independence to one little better than
beggary.

Disturbing elements had been gathering for days in Wall Street, which to
a few wise old heads seemed ominous. They predicted danger, but their
warnings were laughed at by the less cautious speculators, who operated
with a reckless daring. At length, however, the storm struck almost
without a moment's notice. Wild reports filled the air, and men, strong,
bold men, crushed by the tremendous force of the panic, fell prostrate
here and there, and everywhere. Terror spread to all, and painted its
sickly hue upon their faces. When the storm had subsided the street was
full of wrecks. Among them was the daring firm of Breakwell & Co., who
had failed for a million and a quarter of dollars.

Young Randolph was stunned at the exhibition he witnessed on that fatal
day. House after house with whom his firm had done business, and who
were supposed to be almost beyond the possibility of failure, had closed
their doors. Breakwell & Co. were among the last to go under. They had
been kept up by the splendid loyalty of Richard Goldwin, who put his
bank account at their command, relying upon their assurance that they
were all right, and would come out of the storm stronger than ever, if
they could only receive temporary help. Mr. Goldwin, anxious to save
them, stood heroically by them, and went down with them--a victim of
noble generosity, of misplaced confidence. Yes, he had failed--Richard
Goldwin, the banker and broker, yesterday a millionaire, today perhaps a
pauper.

Herbert Randolph could not at first realize the awful fact, but the pain
he saw in Mr. Goldwin'