,
don't you?"

"Yes," admitted Gilman.

"If it goes up two cents the man closes the deal and takes out another
one-fourth cent a bushel for closing. That's another two-fifty. You
get back thirty-five dollars. Your bucket-shop man is practically
betting fifteen dollars of his money against twenty of yours on worse
than an even break. Pretty good game for the bucket-shop man, isn't
it? But there's more. He doesn't take as much risk as matching pennies
on a three-to-four shot. Suppose he has one man betting that wheat
will go up and another that it will go down. Each man puts up twenty,
and one must lose. The man with the bucket runs no chances, and every
time he takes in forty dollars he pays out only thirty-five of it.
Twelve and one-half per cent. of all the money that passes through his
hands stays there. Moreover, the winner puts his right back into the
game, and the loser rakes up more, to win back what he lost. Pretty
syrupy, eh? The only trouble with you is that you have been playing
this game from the wrong end. Now, you're going to play it from the
inside. I'm going to rent an office to-day. You're to back me to the
extent of three thousand dollars, and we'll split the profits."

Gilman's eyes glistened. He was one who did his thinking by proxy, and
reflected enthusiasm with vast ease.

"Do you suppose it would take the three thousand all at once?" he
asked with some anxiety.

"No, we won't need it in a lump," Wix decided, after some sharp
thought over Gilman's nervousness; "but it must be where we can get
all or any part of it at a minute's notice."

Gilman drew such an obvious breath of relief that Wix became once more
thoughtful; but it was a thoughtfulness that brought with it only
hardening of the jaw and steeling of the eyes.

CHAPTER IV

WHICH SHOWS THE EASIEST WAY TO MAKE A
BUCKET-SHOP PAY

Within three days, Wix, who was a curious blend of laziness and
energy, had fitted up an office in a sample-room leading off the lobby
of the Grand Hotel. Over the name on the door he puzzled somewhat, and
it was only his hatred for every component syllable of "Jonathan
Reuben Wix" that caused the sign finally to appear as "La Salle Grain
and Stock Brokerage Company." The walls were freshly papered in deep
red, a thick, red carpet was put upon the floor, a resplendent
cashier's wicket and desk were installed, fine leather-padded chairs
faced a neatly ruled blackboard; and the speculative element