"Very well, I'll call at that time then," said Job Haskers. "But you might as well sign for it now," and again he held out the paper and the pen.

   "No, I'll wait until to-morrow morning," answered Mr. Fordham, as he arose. "It's time I retired now. I—I'm not as strong as I once was."

   "I am sorry to hear that. Well, I'll be around in the morning, and I am sure you will realize that this is a good thing, after you have thought it over," said Job Haskers, with calm assurance, and then he and the elderly man left the room. Dave and Roger saw them separate in the main hall of the hotel, the old gentleman going upstairs, and Job Haskers out into the storm.

   "What do you think of it, Dave?"

   "I think Job Haskers is up to some game, Roger."

   "Selling worthless stocks?"

   "Yes, or else stocks that are next door to worthless."

   "I wonder who the old gentleman can be? He looks as if he might have money. That diamond ring he wears must be worth several hundred dollars."

   "Supposing we ask Mr. Passmore about him?" suggested Dave.

   "That's the idea."

   The youths found Mr. Passmore in a protected corner of a side porch, smoking. Most of the storm was now over, but it still rained.

   "Tired of bowling, eh?" said Bert's father, who was a wholesale dealer in rugs.

   "Mr. Passmore, we want to ask you some questions," said Roger. "Do you know an elderly gentleman here by the name of Fordham?"

   "Fordham? Yes, I've met him. Nice man, too, but rather feeble."

   "Is he alone here?" asked Dave.

   "Practically. He has a son that comes to see him once in a while. Did you want to see him?"

   "We have seen him, and we were wondering if we hadn't better have a talk with him," explained Dave.

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