Well, now, keep those figures in your head, and
keep an eye on the Broker. He's worth watching--as you'll see."

"What's his name?" asked the sister, with an accession of alertness in
her face. "You call him 'Broker'--and that doesn't mean anything to me.
They're all brokers, aren't they?"

"Semple--Colin Semple, that's his name. He's a young Scotchman--father's
a Presbyterian minister. He's a little, insignificant runt of a chap to
look at--but I learned a long time ago not to judge a singed cat by his
looks. However--where was I?"

"You were going to tell about Tuesday afternoon, weren't you?"

He nodded gravely, and straightened himself, drawing a long breath in
preparation for the dramatic recital before him. "On Tuesday afternoon,"
he began again, with impressive slowness, "I was walking on Throgmorton
Street, about four o'clock. It was raining a little--it had been raining
on and off all day--a miserable, rotten sort of a day, with greasy mud
everywhere, and everybody poking umbrellas into you. I was out walking
because I'd 'a' cut my throat if I'd tried to stay in the office another
ten minutes. All that day I hadn't eaten anything. I hadn't slept worth
speaking of for three nights. The whole game was up for me. I was worse
than ruined. I had half a crown in my pocket. I had ten or twelve pounds
in the bank--and they wouldn't let me overdraw a farthing. I tell you, I
was just plumb busted.

"There came along in the gutter a sandwich-man. I'd seen the cuss before
during the day, walking up and down near my offices. I took notice
of him, because he was the raggedest, dirtiest, most forlorn-looking
cripple you ever saw in your life. Now I read what was on his boards. It
was the bill of a paper that I had refused to be bled by, and there
it was in big letters: 'The Rubber Bubble Burst!' 'Thorpe's Audacity
Punished!' Those were the words. I can see them with my eyes shut. I
stood there, looking at the fellow, and I suppose there was something in
the way I looked, for he stopped too. Of course, he didn't know me from
Adam, but all the same, I'm damned if he didn't wink his eye at me--as
if we two had a joke between us. And at that I burst out laughing--I
simply roared with laughter, like a boy at a pantomime--and I took that
last half-crown out of my pocket, and I gave it to the sandwich-man.
God! you should have seen his face."

"I don't particularly mind, Joel," said his sister, "but I never heard
you swear so