I don't understand. How many people had applied
for shares? You haven't mentioned that."

A fleeting smile lighted up the saturnine gloom of
his present mood. "It was hardly worth mentioning,"
he answered, with bitter mirth. "Between five
and six thousand shares were subscribed, all told.
I think the withdrawals by telegraph brought it down to
practically five thousand. We offered a hundred thousand,
you know.--But let me go on with my story. I stood there,
in front of our street-door, in a kind of trance.
The words of that Jew--'Sell Rubber Consols at three-
quarters!'--buzzed inside my head as if they would burst
it open. I turned--and I happened to see my Broker--the
Scotchman, Semple, you know--coming along toward me.
Right at that minute, like a flash, something dawned on me.
In less than a second, I saw the whole damned rotten
outfit turned upside down, with me on top. I made a jump,
and ran to meet Semple.

"'How many shares of ours have you bought?' I asked him,
with a grip tight on his arm.

"The little chap was looking mighty sick. He figured up
in his mind. 'I'm afraid it's eight thousand five hundred,
all told,' he said, in a sort of Presbyterian whimper.

"'Well--how would these gentlemen go about it to deliver
their goods--that is, supposing we got a settlement?'