"I say," Jadwin observed, "I saw an old fellow outside in your
customers' room just now that put me in mind of Hargus. You remember
that deal of his, the one he tried to swing before he died. Oh--how
long ago was that? Bless my soul, that must have been fifteen, yes
twenty years ago."

The deal of which Jadwin spoke was the legendary operation of the
Board of Trade--a mammoth corner in September wheat, manipulated by
this same Hargus, a millionaire, who had tripled his fortune by the
corner, and had lost it by some chicanery on the part of his
associate before another year. He had run wheat up to nearly two
dollars, had been in his day a king all-powerful. Since then all
deals had been spoken of in terms of the Hargus affair. Speculators
said, "It was almost as bad as the Hargus deal." "It was like the
Hargus smash." "It was as big a thing as the Hargus corner." Hargus
had become a sort of creature of legends, mythical, heroic,
transfigured in the glory of his millions.

"Easily twenty years ago," continued Jadwin. "If Hargus could come
to life now, he'd be surprised at the difference in the way we do
business these days. Twenty years. Yes, it's all of that. I declare,
Sam, we're getting old, aren't we?"

"I guess that was Hargus you saw out there," answered the broker.
"He's not dead. Old fellow in a stove-pipe and greasy frock coat?
Yes, that's Hargus."

"What!" exclaimed Jadwin. "_That_ Hargus?"