"The right; yes. But, between us, Mr. Merrick, this society swell has no
mental capacity to handle such an uncertain business. He's noted for
doing unwarranted things. To me it's a marvel that Von Taer hasn't
shipwrecked the family fortunes long ago. Luck has saved him, not
foresight."

That speech of a few weeks ago now seemed prophetic to John Merrick.
Within a few days the aristocratic broker had encountered financial
difficulties and been forced to appeal to Mr. Merrick, to whom he
obtained an introduction through a mutual friend. Von Taer was
doubtless solvent, for he controlled large means; but unless a saving
hand was extended at this juncture his losses were sure to be severe,
and might even cripple him seriously.

All this Mr. Merrick shrewdly considered in the space of a few moments.
As he left the train he looked at his watch and found it was barely
eleven. He decided not to await the hour of appointment. With his usual
brisk stride he walked to Von Taer's offices and was promptly admitted
to the broker's sanctum.

Hedrik Von Taer was a fine looking man, tall, grave, of dignified
demeanor and courteous manners. He stood until his visitor was seated
and with a gesture of deference invited him to open the conversation.

"I've decided to make you the loan, Von Taer," began Mr. Merrick, in his
practical, matter-of-fact way. "Three hundred thousand, wasn't it? Call
on Major Doyle at my office this afternoon and he'll arrange it for
you."

An expression of relief crossed the broker's face.