k of sheep that has lost
its bell-wether."

"They straggle--eh?" returned his portly friend with an increase of his
smile that was not altogether pleasant. "So Sylvester has left Wall
Street?"

"He closed his last enterprise two weeks before accepting the Presidency
of the Madison Bank. Stuyvesant is down on speculation, and well--It
looks better you know; the Madison Bank is an old institution, and
Sylvester is ambitious. There'll be no reckless handling of funds
_there_."

"No!" What was there in that _no_ that made the other look up? "I'm not
acquainted with Sylvester myself. Has he much family?"

"A wife--there she is, that handsome woman talking with Ditman,--and a
daughter, niece or somebody who just now is setting all our young
scapegraces by the ears. You can see her if you just crane your neck a
little."

"Humph, ha, very pretty, very pretty. How much do you suppose Mrs.
Sylvester is worth as she stands, diamonds you know, and all that?"

"Well I should say some where near ten thousand; that sprig in her hair
cost a clean five."

"So, so. They live in a handsome house I suppose?"

"A regular palace, corner of Fifth Avenue and ----"

"All his?"

"Nobody's else I reckon."

"Sports horses and carriage I suppose?"

"Of course."

"Yacht, opera box?"

"No reason why he shouldn't."

"What is his salary?"

"A nominal sum, five or ten thousand perhaps."

"Owns good share of the bank's stock I presume?"

"Enough to control it."

"Below par though?"

"A trifle, going up, however."

"And _don't_ speculate?"

The way this man drawled his words was excessively disagreeable.

"Not that any one knows of. He's made his fortune and now asks only to
enjoy it."

The man from the West strutted back and looked at his companion
knowingly. "What do you think of my judgment, Stadler?"

"None better this side of the Pacific."

"Pretty good at spying out cracks, eh?"

"I wouldn't like to undertake the puttying up that would deceive you."

"Humph! Well then, mark this. In two months from to-day you will see Mr.
Sylvester rent his house and go south for his health, or the pretty one
over there will marry one of the scapegraces you mention, who will lend
the man _who don't engage in any further ventures_, more than one or two
hundred thousand dollars."

"Ha, you know something."

"I own mines in Colorado and I have my points."

"And Mr. Sylvester?"

"Will find them too sharp for him."

And hav