with the building-loan company and failed."

In the office of The People's Mutual Bond and Loan Company there was
no despondency whatever, for Mr. Wallingford and the dark-haired
gentleman who had given his name as Mr. Clifford were shaking hands
with much glee.

"They fell for it like kids for a hoky-poky cart, Blackie," exulted
Wallingford. "They're in there right this minute talking about the
cash value of a pull. That was the real ready-money tip of all the
information I got from old Colonel Fox."

They had lit cigars and were still gleeful when a serious thought came
to Mr. Clifford, erstwhile Mr. Daw.

"This is a dangerous proposition, though, J. Rufus," he objected.
"Suppose they actually take this matter up with the state department?
Suppose they even go there?"

"Well, they can't prove any connection between you and me, and you
will be out of the road," said Wallingford. "I don't mind confessing
that it's nearer an infraction of the law than I like, though, and
hereafter I don't intend to come so close. It isn't necessary. But in
this case there's nothing to fear. These lead-pipe artists are scared
so stiff by their fall-down on the building-loan game that they'll
take their medicine right here and now. They'll come to me before
to-morrow night, now that I've got them, to collect their money in a
wad in the new company. They might even start work to-night."

He rose from the table in his private office and went to the door.

"Oh, Billy!" he called.

A sharp-looking young fellow with a pen behind his ear came from the
other room.

"Billy, here's a hundred dollars for you," said Wallingford.

"Thank you," said Billy. "Who's to be thugged?"

"Nobody," replied Wallingford, laughing. "It's just a good-will gift.
By the way, if Doc Turner or any of that crowd back there makes any
advances to you to buy your share of stock, sell it to them, and
you're a rank sucker if you take less than two hundred for it. Also
tell them that you can get three other shares from the office force at
the same price."

Billy, with great deliberation, took a pin from the lapel of his coat
and pinned his hundred-dollar bill inside his inside vest pocket, then
he winked prodigiously, and without another word withdrew.

"He's a smart kid," said Blackie.

CHAPTER XII

WALLINGFORD IS FROZEN OUT OF THE MANAGEMENT
OF HIS OWN COMPANY

In the old game of "pick or poe" one boy held out a pin, concealed
between his fin