benevolently at me. “You are right,” he said.       “You shall have what you want. You have seemed such a mere boy to me that, in spite of your giving again and again proof of what you are, I have been putting you off. Then, too—” He halted, and his look was that of one surveying delicate ground.     

       “The bucket-shop?” suggested I.     

       “Exactly,” said he gratefully. “Your brokerage business has been invaluable to us. But—well, I needn't tell you how people—the men of standing—look on that sort of thing.”      

       “I never have paid any attention to pompous pretenses,” said I, “and I never shall. My brokerage business must go on, and my daily letters to investors. By advertising I rose; by advertising I am a power that even you recognize; by advertising alone can I keep that power.”      

       “You forget that in the new circumstances, you won't need that sort of power. Adapt yourself to your new surroundings. Overalls for the trench; a business suit for the office.”      

       “I shall keep to my overalls for the present,” said I. “They're more comfortable, and”—here I smiled significantly at him—“if I shed them, I might have to go naked. The first principle of business is never to give up what you have until your grip is tight on something better.”      

       “No doubt you're right,” agreed the white-haired old scoundrel, giving no sign that I had fathomed his motive for trying to “hint” me out of my stronghold. “I will talk the matter over with Langdon and Melville. Rest assured, my boy, that you will be satisfied.” He got up, put his arm affectionately round my shoulders. “We all like you. I have a feeling toward you as if you were my own son. I am getting old, and I like to see young men about me, growing up to assume the responsibilities of the Lord's work whenever He shall call me to my reward.”      

       It will seem incredible that a man of my shrewdness and experience could be taken in by such slimy stuff as that—I who knew Roebuck as only a few insiders knew him, I who had seen him at work, as devoid of heart as an empty spider in an empty web. Yet I was taken in to the extent that I thought he really purposed to recognize my services, to yield to the only persuasion that could affect him—force. I fancied he was actually about to 

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