for the day. He caught the subway with the crowd of
stockbrokers who came romping out of the stock exchange like released
schoolboys after the day's tension, pommeling and shoving each other
with released glee. His first action was to turn to the financial
columns of his newspaper, to make sure there had been no error, to see
in cold print that he had actually made no mistake. During the week
Indiana Smelter climbed irregularly to 111-1/4, broke three points, and
ended at 109 amid a sudden concentration of public interest.

On Saturday, when he came back to his blazing windows in the mellow
half-lights of the court, preparatory to dressing for a party in the
wake of Fred DeLancy, he took the flight two steps at a time, bursting
with the need of pouring out his tale of good fortune to responsive
ears. He found only George Granning, snug in the big armchair, sunk in
the beatific contemplation of an immense ledger.

"What the deuce are you grinning at, you old rhinoceros?" said Bojo,
stopping surprised.

"I'm casting up accounts," said Granning. "I'm twelve hundred and
forty-two dollars ahead of the game. To-morrow you can buy me my first
bond and make me a capitalist. Bojo, congratulate me. I've got my
raise--forty a week from now on--assistant superintendent! What do you
think of that?"

"No!" exclaimed Bojo, who had been dreaming in hundreds of thousands. He
shook hands with all the enthusiasm he could force. Then a genuine pity
seized him for the inequalities of opportunity. He seized a chair and
drew it excitedly near his friend. "Granny, listen to me. Do you know
what I have made in ten days? Almost five thousand dollars! Now you know
nothing in this world would let me get you in wrong, unless I knew.
Well, Granny, I know! I'll guarantee you--do you understand--that if
you'll let me take your thousand and invest it as I want, I'll double
your capital in a month."

"Thank you, no," said Granning in a way that admitted no discussion.
"The gilt-edged kind is my ambition. Look here, how much money have you
put up?"

"Only twenty thousand."

"Then give me the rest and let me bury it for you."

"I tell you I can sell it now and make $4500. What do you say to that?"

"I'm damned sorry to hear it."

"You're a nice friend."

"Lecturing isn't my strong point," said Granning imperturbably, "but
since you insist, the first lesson in life to my mind is a wholesome
respect for the difficulty of making money."

"Yo