don't hear
anybody knocking that man nowadays, do you? And yet that's the trick he
pulled to get his start."

With a similar snapper did Mr. Fogg touch up each one of his stories of
success.

"I--I didn't have any idea--I thought they managed it some other way,"
murmured David Boyne.

"Your horizon has been limited; you haven't been out in the world
enough to know, my son."

"I have heard of all those men, of course. They're big men to-day."

"You didn't think they got to be millionaires by saving the money out of
clerks' salaries, did you? Of course, Boyne, I admit that in this
affair you'll be up to a little sharp practice. But you're not stealing
anything. Nobody can lug off steamships in a vest pocket. It's only a
deal--and deals are being made every day."

Fogg was a keen judge of his fellow-men. He knew weakness when he saw
it. He could determine from a man's lower lip and the set of his nose
whether that person were covetous. And he knew now what signified the
flush on Boyne's cheeks and the light in his eyes. However, there was
something else to reckon with.

"I will not betray Mr. Franklin's confidence in me. Positively, I will
not," said the young man. "He's sick, and that would make it worse."

"How sick is he?"

"He is very, very ill. It was an operation, and he has had a relapse.
But we hope he's coming out all right."

"What hospital is he in?"

Boyne gave the name.

"I think I'll call up and ask when it is expected that he can see
visitors," announced Fogg, with business briskness. "I wish Franklin had
been here on deck--Franklin, himself."

"I don't believe Mr. Franklin would turn a trick of this sort," asserted
the clerk. "I'd hate to face him, after doing it myself."

"Franklin would be able to see further into a financial deal than a
young chap," said Mr. Fogg, severely, and then he found his number and
made his call. "Good heavens!" he blurted, after a question. "I am in
his office. Yes, I'll tell Boyne."

With a fine affectation of grief and surprise, he snapped the
transmitter upon the hook and whirled on Boyne. His back had been toward
the young man--he had spoken with hand across the receiver.

"He has just died--he's dead! Franklin has passed away."

"I would have been notified," gasped Boyne.

"They were just going to call you. You heard me say I'd inform you."

"But I must call the hospital--offer my services. I must go up there."

Mr. Fogg put out his hand and press