the east wall from the doorway of the public room at one end to the
telephone room at the other.

The centre of the floor was occupied by the pits. To the left and to
the front of Landry the provision pit, to the right the corn pit,
while further on at the north extremity of the floor, and nearly
under the visitors' gallery, much larger than the other two, and
flanked by the wicket of the official recorder, was the wheat pit
itself.

Directly opposite the visitors' gallery, high upon the south wall a
great dial was affixed, and on the dial a marking hand that
indicated the current price of wheat, fluctuating with the changes
made in the Pit. Just now it stood at ninety-three and
three-eighths, the closing quotation of the preceding day.

As yet all the pits were empty. It was some fifteen minutes after
nine. Landry checked his hat and coat at the coat room near the
north entrance, and slipped into an old tennis jacket of striped
blue flannel. Then, hatless, his hands in his pockets, he leisurely
crossed the floor, and sat down in one of the chairs that were
ranged in files upon the floor in front of the telegraph enclosure.
He scrutinised again the despatches and orders that he held in his
hands; then, having fixed them in his memory, tore them into very
small bits, looking vaguely about the room, developing his plan of
campaign for the morning.

In a sense Landry Court had a double personality. Away from the
neighbourhood and influence of La Salle Street, he was
"rattle-brained," absent-minded, impractical, and easily excited,