ne who knew the ropes, not a man like
the Colonel who never had a dishonest thought in his head and who is
as tender-hearted as a child."

"You don't know what you're talking about," flared Klutchem. "He came
down with a cock-and-bull story and wanted me to take----"

"I know the whole story, every word of it. He came down to offer you
every dollar of his interest in a scheme that is as real to him as if
the bonds were selling on the Exchange at par. They are all he has in
the world, and if some miracle should occur and they should be worth
their face value he would never touch a penny of the proceeds if he
was starving to death, because of the promise he made you. And in my
interest, too, not his own, and all for love of me, his friend."

"But it was only a letter from a concern offering to print----"

"Certainly. And across it he had written his name--both, I grant you,
not worth the paper they were written on. But why didn't you have the
decency to humor the dear old fellow as we all do, and treat him with
the same courtesy with which he treated you, instead of insulting him
by throwing the letter in his face. You'll excuse me, Mr. Klutchem,
when I say it gets me pretty hot when I think of it. I don't blame him
for cracking you over the head, and neither would you, if you
understood him as I do."

Klutchem looked out of the window and twisted his thumbs for an
instant as if in deep thought. The outcome of the interview was of the
utmost importance to him, and he did not want anything to occur which
would prejudice his case with the broker. Fitz sat in front of him,
bent forward, his hands on his knees, his eyes boring into Klutchem's.

Then a puzzled, and strange to say what appeared to be a more kindly
expression broke over Klutchem's face.

"I guess I was rough, but I didn't mean it, really. You know how it
was yesterday--regular circus all day. I wouldn't have made the charge
at the police-station--for he didn't hurt me much--if the policeman
hadn't compelled me. And then don't forget, this isn't the first time
I've come across him. He came to my house once when I was laid up with
the gout, and----"

"Yes," interrupted Fitz, "I haven't forgotten it, and what did he come
for? To apologize, didn't he? I should have thought you'd have seen
enough of him at that time to know what kind of a man he was. Down
here in the Street we've got to put things down on paper and we don't
trust anybody. We don't understand