solid as a margin. I've sent it to him right along
for their account, and he'll get what's coming to him to-day, but
_talk_ won't do any good."

"What do you mean by somethin' solid, Fitz?"

"Gilt-edged collateral,--5.20's or something as good."

"I presume any absolutely safe security would answer?"

"Yes."

"And of what amount?"

"Oh, perhaps fifty thousand,--perhaps a hundred. I'll know to-morrow."

The Colonel communed with himself for a moment, made a computation
with his lips assisted by his fingers, and said with great dignity:

"You haven't had my 'Garden Spots' bonds printed yet, have you?"

"No."

"Nothin' lookin' to'ards it?"

"Yes, certainly, but nothing definite. I've got the proposition I told
you about from the Engraving Company. Here it is." And Fitz pulled out
a package of papers from a pigeon-hole and laid the letter before the
Colonel. It was the ordinary offer agreeing to print the bonds for a
specified sum, and had been one of the many harmless dodges Fitz had
used to keep the Colonel's spirits up.

The Colonel studied the document carefully.

"When I accept this, of co'se, the mattuh is closed between me and the
Company?"

"Certainly."

"And no other party could either print or receive the bonds except on
my written order?"

"No." Fitz was groping now in the dark. Why the Colonel should have
suddenly dropped Consolidated Smelting to speak of the "Garden Spots"
was another mystery.

"And I have a right to transfer this order to any one I please?"

"Of course, Colonel." The mystery was now impenetrable.

"You have no objection to my takin' this letter, Fitz?"

"Not the slightest."

The Colonel walked to the window, looked out for a moment into the
street, walked back to Fitz's desk, and with a tinge of resignation in
his voice as if he had at last nerved himself for the worst, laid his
hand on Fitz's shoulder:

"I should never have a moment's peace, Fitz, if I did not exhaust
every means in my power to ward off this catastrophe from you. Kindly
give me a pen."

I moved closer. Was the Colonel going to sign his check for a million,
or was there some unknown friend who, at a stroke of his pen, would
come to Fitz's rescue?

The Colonel smoothed out the letter containing the proposition of the
Engraving Company, tried the pen on his thumbnail, dipped it carefully
in the inkstand, poised it for an instant, and in a firm round hand
wrote across its type-written face the wor