men as Bardsley and Higgins and myself are compelled to make use of
criminals, to put ourselves practically in fear of the law, to get back
a paper which we signed like babes in the wood. What if this illness of
Duge's is a fake! Nowadays a man doesn't need to move from his room to
do mischief in this world."

"I've been round to his broker's this morning," Higgins remarked. "He is
doing nothing, has done nothing for weeks. He left off the day we all
agreed to leave off."

"Why couldn't he be doing as we've done," Bardsley remarked, "and work
from Chicago or Boston?"

Higgins grunted, and poured himself out a glass of wine.

"You fellows have got the nerves," he said contemptuously. "You're
imagining things like a pack of frightened women. Duge can't swallow us
up, even if he tumbled to our game. I don't believe there's anything in
this funk of yours. As to signing that paper, well, we've got to run the
Government of this country, as well as a good many other things, if the
Government won't leave us alone. Duge's name is on it right enough, but
if you fellows are really going to shake all day about it, let's have
the paper, even if we blow up the house. I'll send for Danes to-night.
We'll meet him down town somewhere--two of us, no more--and see what he
can suggest. If we get that paper, and Duge's illness isn't a sham,
he'll come downstairs to face the biggest smash that any man in New York
has ever dreamed of, and serve him d----d well right. I'm sick of the
fellow and his ways. For every million we've scooped, he's scooped two.
Every deal we've been into, he's had a little the best of us. We are
going to get our own back, but for Heaven's sake don't let us spoil the