“Very well, sir.”

Thursday came. A stock operator, famous for his keen reading of conditions, which came from his possession of a marvellous imagination combined with logical reasoning power, walked into the bank, and was impressed by the vaguely uneasy something in the air. He at once called on his friend, and occasional accomplice, Dawson. The president assured him that he had no news; wherefore, the imaginative plunger reasoned: “If it were good news he’d let me know, because it would help him to have me know it. The news, whatever it is, must be bad,” and left the bank hurriedly. A few minutes later the stock-market became very weak—the suspicious gambler was selling stocks to be on the safe side. But the president paid no attention to the whirring ticke. . . Read More