brary in loose dressing-gown and slippers, a cigar in his
mouth, immersed in the usual contemplation of the picture puzzle.

"By George, he bears it well," Bojo thought to himself, moved to
admiration by the calm of that impassive figure.

"Hello, Tom," he said, looking up, "what's brought you here at this time
of night? Anything wrong?"

"Wrong?" said Bojo faintly. "Haven't you heard about Pittsburgh & New
Orleans?"

"Well, what about it?"

Bojo gulped down something that was in his throat, steadying himself
against the awful truth that meant ruin and dishonor to him.

"Mr. Drake--tell me what I owe you? I want to know what I owe you," he
said desperately.

"Owe? Nothing."

"But the pool?"

"Well, what about the pool?" said Drake, eyeing him closely.

"The pool to sell Pittsburgh & New Orleans."

"Who said anything about selling!" said Drake sharply. "The pool's all
right." He looked at him a long moment, and the boyish triumph,
suppressed too long, broke out with the memory of Fontaine's visit. "I
bought control of Pittsburgh & New Orleans at eleven o'clock this
morning and sold it ten minutes ago, for what I paid for it, plus--plus
a little profit of ten million dollars." He paused long enough to let
this sink into the consciousness of the reeling young man and added,
smiling: "On a pro rata basis, Tom, your fifty thousand stands you in
just a quarter of a million. I congratulate you."

CHAPTER XV

SUDDEN WEALTH

"Your fifty thousand stands you in just a quarter of a million."

The words came to him faintly as though shouted from an incredible
distance. The shock was too acute for his nerves. He sought to mumble
over the fantastic news and sank into a chair, sick with giddiness. The
next thing he knew clearly was Drake's powerful arm about him and a
glass forced to his lips.

"Here, get this down. Then steady up. Good luck doesn't kill."

"I thought they'd caught us--thought I was cleaned out," he said
incoherently.

"You did, eh?" said Drake, laughing. "You haven't much faith in the old
man."

Bojo steadied himself, standing alone. The room seemed to race about him
and in his ears were strange unfixed sounds. One thought rapped upon his
brain--he was not disgraced, not dishonored; no one would ever
know--Drake would never need to know; that is if he were careful, if he
could somehow dissimulate before that penetrating glance.

"I thought we were to sell Pittsburgh & New Orleans," h