Saunders nodded as he sat down in the revolving-chair at the desk and
slowly swung it round till he faced his partner.

"It's a wonder to me that you are able to talk about it," he said,
sharply. "You've been through enough in the last ten days to kill a
dozen ordinary men. You've taken too many stimulants, smoked like the
woods afire, and on top of it all instead of getting natural sleep
you've amused yourself at all hours of the night. You've bolted your
food, and fussed and fumed over Delbridge's affairs, which, heaven
knows, have nothing at all to do with your own."

"I suppose I _do_ keep track of the fellow," Mostyn smiled. "People
compare us constantly. We started about the same time, and it rankles
to hear of his making a lucky strike just when I've had a tumble. This
matter of my backing Warner when I went to Augusta they told me they
had met with more bad luck, and if I didn't advance fresh funds they
would have to go under. It was the biggest risk I ever took, but I
took it. I raised the money on my street-railway bonds. For a day or
so afterward I was hopeful, but they quit writing and wouldn't answer
my wires. My lawyer in Augusta wrote me that they were all three on
the verge of suicide, and if they could not close a certain deal in
Boston they would go under. That's what I've been waiting on for the
last week, and that's why I've been crazy. But it is all right now--
all right. I'm safe, and I made money, too--money that Delbridge would
like to have."

"There are no two ways about it." Saunders reached for a cigar in a
tray on the desk and cut off the tip with a paper-knife. "You've got
to take a rest and get your mind off of business."