ed to buy.

At last, however, their favorite banks were full to overflowing and at
the danger-point. They could take no more.

"No, no, no!" Hand declared to Phineas Hull over the 'phone. "I can't
risk another dollar in this venture, and I won't! It's a perfect
proposition. I realize all its merits just as well as you do. But
enough is enough. I tell you a financial slump is coming. That's the
reason all this stock is coming out now. I am willing to protect my
interests in this thing up to a certain point. As I told you, I agree
not to throw a single share on the market of all that I now have. But
more than that I cannot do. The other gentlemen in this agreement will
have to protect themselves as best they can. I have other things to
look out for that are just as important to me, and more so, than
American Match."

It was the same with Mr. Schryhart, who, stroking a crisp, black
mustache, was wondering whether he had not better throw over what
holdings he had and clear out; however, he feared the rage of Hand and
Arneel for breaking the market and thus bringing on a local panic. It
was risky business. Arneel and Merrill finally agreed to hold firm to
what they had; but, as they told Mr. Hull, nothing could induce them to
"protect" another share, come what might.

In this crisis naturally Messrs. Hull and Stackpole--estimable
gentlemen both--were greatly depressed. By no means so wealthy as
their lofty patrons, their private fortunes were in much greater
jeopardy. They were eager to make any port in so black a storm.
Witness, then, the arrival of Benoni Stackpole at the office of Frank
Algernon Cowperwood. He was at the end of his tether, and Cowperwood
was the only really rich man in the city not yet involved in this
speculation. In the beginning he had heard both Hand and Schryhart say
that they did not care to become involved if Cowperwood was in any way,
shape, or manner to be included, but that had been over a year ago, and
Schryhart and Hand were now, as it were, leaving both him and his
partner to their fates. They could have no objection to his dealing
with Cowperwood in this crisis if he could make sure that the magnate
would not sell him out. Mr. Stackpole was six feet one in his socks
and weighed two hundred and thirty pounds. Clad in a brown linen suit
and straw hat (for it was late July), he carried a palm-leaf fan as
well as his troublesome stocks in a small yellow leather bag. He wa