senses dulled, or hearts cast down. This morning's work called for such
spirit as carries forward a tide of bayonets thirsting for blood back of
the trenches they charge. There must be the ferocity of barbarians
bearing knife and torch: of the hordes of the Huns and Vandals. There of
course was Hardinge, a man who, had he not been a broker, might have
made a headquarters detective, so hard and devoid of humanity was the
fashion in which he went about his work. His nature was that of a cock
tossed into the pit or a bull turned into the ring. Such men Hamilton
wanted now, for into the five hours of the Stock-Exchange day he meant
to crowd such a sum of mad disaster and panic conflagration that the
history of the Money World should be beggared for a comparison. They had
tauntingly named him the Great Bear, but this day should demonstrate
that heretofore he had been only a gentle and playful cub. Cash--cash,
cash! Such had been his watchword and he had stamped on the world of
finance a belief that his command of gold was endless. Even should he
reach the end of his resources with his task unfinished, he knew that
his tremendous nerve was in itself unlimited backing. The nature of the
trading on the floor precluded any discovery, during the length of the
session, of a depleted treasury--and left open the path for onward
charges. But before his treasury was depleted the whole structure would
lie in ruins.

He glanced out of his window and smiled. It was the sort of a day which
men in police circles describe as "suicide weather." Coroners will tell
you that on such days their calls are most numerous and history will
tell you that on such days the greatest financial disasters of the world
have visited stock-exchanges and bourses. Burton's jaws were set and his
eyes ablaze with a fiery tenseness which was hardly sane. His loins were
girded and to one focal object was every power dedicated. He was going
to mete out death and destruction. He would grapple with enemies who had