ith Buckbee. He told him just exactly what
he intended to do to Stoddard; which was indiscreet, to say the least.
But Buckbee, who was likewise in an expansive mood, told in turn
everything he knew; and the following day, as Rimrock thought it over,
he wondered if he had not been wrong.

Buckbee had assured him that the stock on the market represented less
than half of the Navajoa capitalization; and if that was the case it
was hopeless, of course, to try to break Stoddard's control. But,
strictly as a friend and for old time's sake, Buckbee had offered to
sell Rimrock's stock at a profit; he had even gone further and promised
to pass it on to Stoddard, who was in the market to protect his
holdings. At twenty-four, which was where it was selling, Rimrock
would clean up a tidy sum; and every cent of that absolute velvet would
come out of Stoddard's pocket. It was a great temptation, but as
Rimrock sobered he remembered that it was a fight to a finish. He had
set out to break Whitney Stoddard.

The next morning at ten he sat at his desk waiting expectantly for the
Stock Exchange to open. It was to have been his big day when, with
over a million dollars from his dividends, he had intended to buy in
Navajoa. But there was one thing that left him uneasy--his money had
not come. If it had been sent by registered mail the Christmas glut
would easily account for the delay, but three telegrams had remained
also unanswered. He pondered for a moment, whether to wire to Mary or
not, and then the telephone rang.

"Hello?" said a voice, "this is Buckbee speaking. What do you think
about the proposition I made?"

"What proposition?" demanded Rimrock and then he grunted intolerantly
as Buckbee renewed his offer for the stocks. "You must be drunk!" he
said at the end and a merry laugh came back over the 'phone.

"No, all joking aside--I'm sober now. What do you say to twenty-four?"

"Too little!" bluffed Rimrock. "I want at least thirty."

"Will you take that?"

"No!" replied Rimrock, "nor thirty-five. I'm in the market to buy!"

"Well, how much do you want, then?" began Buckbee eagerly, "it's all
the same to me. As long as it moves and I get my commission I don't
care who buys the stock. But I'll tell you one thing--you'll have to
put up more margin if you start to bidding it up. Twenty per cent., at
the least, and if it goes above thirty I'll demand a full fifty per
cent. You want to remember, Old Scout, th